Hizashi instinctively touched his waist, and the bell still hung there—or so it seemed. But the moment his fingers closed around it, his pupils narrowed.
"This… could it be—?!"
With a sharp snap, the bell burst into smoke, revealing not an object, but Lucien's form.
Hyuga Hongdie and Hatake Kusuo's eyes widened in disbelief.
Lucien spoke calmly from a short distance away, his tone laced with satisfaction. "Teacher Hizashi, do you remember? Before I cast the Great Fireball, my shadow clone brushed the bell at your waist."
"…I recall," Hizashi admitted, his brow furrowing.
Lucien continued smoothly. "You struck one of my clones with Soft Fist, and when it burst into smoke, your Byakugan confirmed it vanished. But while that clone disappeared, my other clone did not. Instead, it performed Transformation—into your bell."
The Jonin's breath stilled for a moment. Even with his Byakugan, he had overlooked the switch.
"Impossible… so when I focused fully on repelling your Fireball—"
"Exactly," Lucien sneered faintly. And then, the version of him standing before Hizashi spoke again. "But, to be clear—I'm not even the real one. Just a shadow clone."
The figure vanished with a puff of smoke.
The true Lucien stepped out from the tree line, the bell dangling from his fingers. Its quiet chime silenced the training ground.
Hongdie's lips parted slightly, surprise and awe glowing in her eyes. Kusuo's fists clenched, his pride shaken—this boy who was always looked down upon had turned the tables entirely.
Hizashi exhaled deeply, the tension in his face breaking. Such cunning… such precision… this isn't a normal boy. He might even rival the Hyuga prodigies themselves.
Lucien casually tossed the bell toward the stunned Kusuo. "It belongs to you. The other's with Red Butterfly. This way, all three of us advance together."
Kusuo's grip tightened, conflicted. "Why…?"
"Simple," Lucien said. "If we can't support one another, we're not a team at all. Genin, bells, titles—none of it matters. Power is real. Strength unites."
The warmth of the bell in his hand made Kusuo swallow hard. Guilt, shame, and reluctant admiration gnawed at him.
"Shigure…" Hongdie whispered softly, deeply moved. The boy she'd known—once scorned—had transformed into someone completely different.
But before anything else, both Kusuo and Hongdie tossed their bells back toward Lucien.
At once, Hizashi snatched them from the air. His expression softened, no longer severe but almost fatherly. "Enough. All three of you… pass."
The weight in his voice carried respect. "It is not strength alone that makes a shinobi, but heart. The fact that you chose unity over betrayal—that is why you've succeeded. From this moment forward, Uchiha Shigure, Hatake Kusuo, Hyuga Akaicho—you are officially Team 7."
Hongdie flushed, unable to contain her smile. Kusuo glanced aside, hiding the spark of acknowledgement in his eyes. And Lucien allowed himself a low exhale, narrowing his gaze with pride.
The bond had been forged.
The Day's Other Reward
Later, as Lucien returned home, the grin on his face betrayed his excitement. Strength. Growth. Knowledge. He had harvested everything from that battle.
"The Gentle Fist—the famed Hyuga taijutsu. A style that targets the meridians directly." He flexed his palms. "With it, my close-range weakness is gone."
"Eight Trigrams: Empty Palm—the perfect mid- to long-range strike. And even their absolute defense—Kaiten. A spin of raw chakra, unbeatable unless matched in force. It's mine. All of it copied."
Through the fusion of his Sharingan and Byakugan, every subtle pulse of chakra, every acupoint had been visible to him. Now, these jealously guarded techniques were his.
Though his body ached from endless practice, he pushed forward deep into the night. The power of the Otsutsuki bloodline granted him all affinities—fire, water, earth, wind, lightning, even yin-yang. His potential was endless.
But when the house lay dark and he prepared to rest, Lucien felt it. A killing intent.
His eyes snapped open, Sharingan spinning instantly. "Three chakra signatures… outside my home."
From his vantage, he saw them clearly. Three figures creeping toward his door. And all bore the same crest.
"The Uchiha clan…" Lucien whispered. His blood chilled with anger.
At their head, a familiar face approached, lips twisted into hatred.
"Uchiha Mamoru…"
Lucien's fists clenched, his eyes icy white with power. The feline calm of a predator stretched across his face. "So—they've finally come."
P.S. This chapter cements Team 7 by showcasing Lucien's guile in stealing the bell, but also his principles in valuing unity over shallow victory. More importantly, it marks the true harvest: he gains Hyuga secret techniques, cementing his growth. But peace is short-lived—the Uchiha clan's retaliation arrives that very night.