Hizashi's pale eyes narrowed. "I lost? Shigure, what do you mean? I clearly broke through your ninjutsu."
Lucien smirked. "Teacher Hizashi, don't believe me? Then let me show you... you'll admit defeat wholeheartedly."
Hizashi straightened again, Byakugan glowing. "Very well—come, make me yield knowingly."
Lucien raised a finger, his Sharingan glinting ominously. "Watch closely. Five seconds is all I need to defeat you."
Hizashi's expression shifted slightly. "Five seconds? You mean to use large-scale ninjutsu?" His heart trembled—he had personally seen the devastation of Lucien's compound jutsu.
Lucien only shook his head and smiled. "Of course not. I'll prove it without one."
In truth, it was simple. Hizashi had shattered the kunai marked with Flying Thunder God using his Eight Trigrams Sixty-Four Palms—but the space-time formulas etched onto those blades still lingered, preserved in fragments. That was all Lucien needed.
In a flash, he slipped through space-time, materializing behind Hizashi with a glowing orb of chakra in his palm. "Rasengan."
Hizashi felt the presence instantly and froze. He could strike no defense in time. I've already lost.
He stepped back with a bitter chuckle. "I understand... so that glowing sphere has immense destructive power... And you didn't use Body Flicker to appear behind me. That was... Flying Thunder God."
Lucien lowered his hand and nodded. "Correct. The Rasengan is my own ninjutsu. And the technique I used was no common Body Flicker—it was the Second Hokage's space-time ninjutsu, Flying Thunder God." He spoke the words loud and firm.
"Flying Thunder God... Tobirama-sama's creation..." Hizashi's eyes widened in disbelief. "You've surpassed even his method, using clones and weapons as conduits for teleportation. It's astonishing... terrifying. To think I, a Jonin, am forced to yield to a five-year-old child... It makes me feel ashamed."
Just as Lucien opened his mouth to comfort him, a crisp sound interrupted—applause.
Pah, pah, pah.
"Impressive! Very impressive indeed. You must be Shigure," came a calm voice from the corridor.
Lucien turned. Standing there was a man clad in formal kimono, the image of Hizashi himself—but prouder, steadier.
"Brother?! What are you doing here?" Hizashi exclaimed, shocked.
Hiashi, heir of the Hyuga main house, smiled lightly. "As part of the main family, it's rare for me to step into branch grounds. But I couldn't ignore what I just saw. Truly... this child is remarkable."
Lucien bowed politely. "You are Hinata Hiashi, Hizashi-sensei's elder brother. May I call you Hiashi-sensei as well?"
Hiashi chuckled. "Of course. I am still only a Jonin of Konoha. But after watching your fight just now... I fear my brother and I may already be far inferior."
Lucien said nothing—his silence was sharper than words.
Hiashi's eyes glinted with something old and restless. "Hizashi. How long has it been since we fought side by side?"
"What are you suggesting, onii-sama...?" Hizashi muttered in surprise.
"I want the two of us—together—to spar with this boy. Shigure, I admit I don't believe I could match you alone. But both of us?" Hiashi's smile deepened. "I am itching to find out."
Lucien's brows rose, but Hiashi added his final card. "If you defeat us... I will tell you everything I know about your mother."
The boy's heart jolted. That decided everything. "...Fine. Let's do it. Come at me with everything you have."
The brothers nodded, their expressions finally serious.
Hiashi even joked as he took stance. "Imagine... two Hyuga Jonin forced to join hands against a five-year-old boy. How humiliating."
"No," Hizashi corrected firmly. "Not a boy. The most promising shinobi of Konoha. Perhaps the world."
"Prepare yourself, Shigure!" Hiashi barked.
"Come on!" Lucien roared, his Sharingan widening.
The Hyuga brothers dashed in perfect unison, bodies flowing with soft fist precision. They pressed close, seeking to seal Lucien's chakra.
Lucien's response was immediate—his fingers flicked, shuriken gleaming through the air, every one of them inscribed with the Flying Thunder God formula.
Both brothers' Byakugan shimmered with clarity. Their palms shattered each blade in midair, severing the inked formulae with precise bursts of chakra.
"As expected... worthy of main house and branch both." Lucien's Sharingan reflected every stroke and strike.
His hands clapped together. "Shadow Clone Jutsu!"
Five clones burst forth, each lunging at a Hyuga. The courtyard echoed with endless exchanges, silk-precise palms versus shadow bodies. Each time a clone's hand grazed, the Hyuga brothers countered, dispelling the illusions with clean strikes.
The fight locked into deadlock until the brothers exchanged a nod. Then—
"Eight Trigrams Sixty-Four Palms!"
Their palms blurred in overwhelming patterns, striking with lightning fluidity. Clone after clone dissolved into white smoke.
When the dust settled—only one clone remained, charging headlong toward them.
Lucien's lips tilted. Perfect timing.
Space warped with his thought. Flying Thunder God activated.
He slipped into reality in an instant—appearing directly between the brothers.
The Hyuga reacted at once. They were masters—ready long before. The assault that should've annihilated the clone now redirected upon Lucien's true body.
"You lose this time, Shigure!"
"Two connected—Eight Trigrams Sixty-Four Palms! One Hundred and Twenty-Eight Palms!"
Twin storms of strikes surged, their Byakugan blazing, their soft fists piercing every acupoint mapped across his chakra network. It looked airtight, flawless.
Lucien's eyes widened, breath sharp. "Such synchronicity... even my Sharingan barely follows..."
But as the final strike struck true—
"Bang!"
The enemy dissolved into smoke.
"A substitution jutsu?!" Hiashi's voice cracked.
"When—when did he switch?!" Hizashi spun frantically, Byakugan scanning the courtyard.
Shigure's shadow clone crumpled under their might. His real body, unseen, was already rewriting the rules of their battlefield.
And the Hyuga brothers realized—they had stepped fully into his game.
--
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