A shaken silence lingered in the clearing as the Third Hokage listened to the Hyūga retainer's account. Hiruzen's brow furrowed deeply, his pipe momentarily forgotten in his hand.
So the one who had died… was the Hyūga Clan Head's youngest son.
He glanced toward the patriarch, eyes narrowing. He hadn't even known that the boy was taking part in this Chūnin Exam. And of all possibilities, to think he would be killed inside the Forest of Death.
If it had been an ordinary Genin, casualties were expected. But this—this was different.
The Hokage's mind turned quickly. The Hyūga main family traditionally bore only one heir. All others born to the clan were sealed with the Caged Bird Curse, becoming branch family shinobi bound to serve the main house. Yet this generation had been unusual.
The current patriarch was not a man of extraordinary talent. He had risen by bloodline alone, not by personal achievement. But fortune—or fate—had granted him three sons, each gifted.
The eldest, Hiashi, is already a jōnin and heir apparent to the clan. The second, Hizashi, was branded with the branch family curse despite his talent surpassing his brother's. And then there was the youngest—Toshiaki Hyūga.
Unlike Hizashi, Toshiaki had never been sealed with the Caged Bird Curse. Out of favoritism—or perhaps weakness—the patriarch had defied tradition and spared his youngest son. It had caused whispers, even outrage, within the clan. But he had promised that, come adulthood, the seal would be placed.
Now that my son lies dead in the Forest of Death.
And more dangerous than the loss of life itself was the loss of his eyes. Unsealed, unmarked, his Byakugan could be taken. If those eyes fell into another's hands… the Hyūga's most sacred secret risked exposure.
Hiruzen exhaled slowly, relief mingling with unease. If the dead had been Hiashi or even Hizashi, this would have been a political disaster. The youngest, however, was not so central to succession. Painful, yes. But reparable—so long as the Byakugan did not escape the clan's control.
"Patriarch Hyūga," the Hokage said at last, "how do you intend this to be resolved?"
The clan head's voice rumbled with restrained fury.
"No matter what, the killer must be found. The murderer is among them."
He gestured sharply to the gathered Genin—thirty-six survivors lined up at the forest gates. Lock stood among them, still and unreadable, though his pulse thudded faster.
Hiruzen's gaze swept over the group. His eyes paused—just briefly—on Lock. An old memory stirred: Jiraiya had once spoken of the boy's strength. Strong enough, perhaps, to do something like this. The thought flickered and passed. No—Lock was cautious, calculating. Killing a Hyūga heir would be reckless even for him.
"Clan Head," Hiruzen said carefully, "these are all our village's shinobi. To accuse them openly like this, to block the examination grounds—this is not wise."
He was trying to soothe, but he also weighed his words. The Hyūga were proud, yet unlike the Uchiha, they were not typically reckless. Their loyalty had long bolstered his leadership. He could not afford to alienate them.
The patriarch inhaled deeply, then spoke with iron resolve.
"Hokage-sama, I can forgo vengeance. But my son's eyes—his Byakugan—must not remain outside the clan. No matter what, I will search."
The words cut like steel. Whatever grief the man felt for his son, his fear of the Byakugan falling into enemy hands was greater. That was the true crisis.
Hiruzen weighed it. Finally, he gave a reluctant nod.
"…Very well. Conduct your search."
With the Hokage's sanction, the Hyūga moved immediately. One by one, the Genin were checked—gear opened, scrolls examined, eyes and bodies scrutinized. No one dared resist, not even the other Hyūga Genin present.
When Lock's turn came, he kept his face calm, his body steady. Inside, his mind ran cold. Stay still. No hesitation. They can't know.
Hands moved over his pouch, his weapons, his clothes. Nothing incriminating was found. No eyes, no trophies. The search moved on.
The patriarch's expression only darkened. "Nothing…"
Without pause, he turned and barked orders. Half a dozen Hyūga scattered, their Byakugan flaring to life as they surged back into the forest to hunt for clues.
Lock's jaw tightened. He had destroyed the body. Changed the ground. Hidden the trail. But even so, the Hyūga's dōjutsu was thorough. If they scoured the scene, they might yet detect remnants—chakra signatures lingering like echoes.
He thought back to the fight. He had used Earth and Water Release. Simple, common affinities. Many of the Genin carried the same. That alone should blur suspicion.
It's been hours, he told himself. Residual chakra fades. They can't trace it back. They shouldn't…
And yet, as the clan fanned out, the weight in his chest refused to lift.
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