Samui's breathing was ragged as she knelt in the shadows of the border forest, her hand clutching at her abdomen. The sharp sting of the senbon embedded deep in her flesh made every breath ache, but she forced herself to remain composed. Her golden hair, damp with sweat, clung to her cheeks, and the night wind carried the metallic tang of blood.
Beside her lay the ANBU squad leader, his mask cracked, his body trembling as he fought to stay conscious. His chest rose and fell with uneven rhythm, blood seeping steadily from his wounds. He had been cut down protecting his comrades, and though he was clinging to life, it was clear he had little strength left.
They had waited until dawn, but Troy had never come. There had been no sign, no message, nothing but the silence of the forest. Samui's mission demanded action. She could not remain in Fire Country any longer, not with her wounds and with Konoha's ANBU hot on her trail. Together with the small squad of Kumogakure shinobi sent to rendezvous with them, she had set out toward the border, determined to escape back to the Land of Lightning.
But fate was merciless. The moment they neared the border cliffs, the ANBU were waiting. The clash had been brutal. The Kumogakure shinobi fought with the desperation of men who knew their lives were already forfeit. One by one, they fell, leaving Samui bloodied and barely standing. Now, only she and the ANBU squad leader remained alive amidst the ruins of the battlefield.
The forest was quiet but for their labored breaths.
"Ugh…" The ANBU squad leader coughed twice, crimson staining the broken mask that covered his face. He tried to sit upright but nearly collapsed.
Samui narrowed her eyes, every muscle taut. She didn't know how long she could last if reinforcements came. But at least they were at the very edge of Fire Country. If she could hold on long enough, there was still a chance.
Rustle.
Both she and the ANBU leader snapped their heads toward the sound at the same time.
From the shadow of a broken hut nearby, a small figure stumbled out. It was a child—black-haired, pale-eyed, his movements panicked. Hyuga Neji.
The boy's chest rose and fell quickly, his eyes wide, but there was a stubborn steadiness in his gaze. He stumbled closer, his bare feet dragging across the dirt.
The ANBU leader's tense shoulders sagged slightly. Relief flickered across his bloodstained face. His mission was clear: recover or eliminate the Byakugan bloodline at all costs. Neji had to be either saved—or silenced.
If the boy could be returned safely to the village, it would be a victory. But if he was at risk of falling into Kumogakure's hands, then death was the only mercy.
Neji froze as he took in the masked man's battered form. "Y-you… how are you?" His young voice trembled, though his eyes darted to the spreading blood at the man's chest.
"I won't die," the squad leader rasped, forcing strength into his tone. "There are military ration pills and gauze in my pouch. Help me take them out."
He narrowed his eyes, his muscles tightening in readiness. His body screamed in protest, but his instincts remained razor sharp. Even half-dead, he was an ANBU captain—an elite among elites.
Neji crouched in front of him, his delicate hand reaching into the pouch.
Buzz!
A flash of steel.
In the same instant, the squad leader's fingers flicked, and a shuriken shot out at an impossible angle, aimed directly for Neji's chest.
Thunk!
Neji's body jerked, collapsing to the ground, blood seeping between his fingers as he clutched at his chest. His breaths came shallow and quick, as though life were slipping from him.
But in the same moment, the squad leader stiffened. His eyes widened in disbelief. A thin senbon protruded from his throat, buried to the hilt. His body convulsed, a gurgle rising from his throat.
It had been a trade. A wound for a life.
The squad leader's strength failed him. His body slumped to the side.
Neji coughed, his small frame trembling. His pale eyes looked at the dying ANBU, a strange awe in them. "So strong… even with death at your throat, you could still counterattack."
The boy slowly rose to his feet, blood trailing from his chest wound.
Samui, still leaning against a rock, stared wide-eyed. Her thoughts swirled in chaos. She had never expected Neji—a child—to suddenly strike at the ANBU. Even more shocking was the fact that he had succeeded, killing an elite operative in such a brutal exchange.
"Child," Samui's voice wavered. "Do you… know what you've done?"
Neji ignored the pain, stepping to the ANBU's body. His small hand glowed faintly with chakra, and he pressed it to the man's chest. A precise Gentle Fist strike landed silently, rupturing the heart completely.
Samui's eyes widened further.
Neji turned toward her, his face calm, his tone steady. "Sister, I destroyed his heart with Gentle Fist. He can never rise again. From this moment forward, we are on the same side."
Samui blinked, stunned into silence. Then, slowly, a smile spread across her lips, half-surprised, half-relieved. "Good… good, little one. From today, we're comrades."
Neji's actions had gone far beyond her imagination. Yet the boy's decision was absolute. If he was willing to return to Kumogakure of his own free will, it was far better than dragging him by force.
The forest was not safe. More ANBU could arrive at any moment. They had to move.
Samui quickly bandaged her wound, suppressing the pain, and pressed her hands into a summoning seal.
"Summoning Jutsu!"
With a puff of white smoke, the massive shell of a sea turtle materialized in the clearing. Its round eyes blinked slowly, the scent of the ocean wafting from its damp skin.
Samui gathered Neji into her arms, lifting his small frame against her shoulder. She leapt lightly onto the turtle's shell.
"Let's go, Neji. We're going home. From now on, in Kumogakure, I will still be your elder sister."
The sea turtle began its steady crawl toward the shoreline, then slipped into the waves with effortless grace.
Neji leaned against Samui's shoulder, watching the land of Fire fade into the distance. The boy's pale eyes slowly closed, exhaustion overwhelming him.
This departure was final—like a bird soaring into the sky, like a fish plunging into the deep sea. No longer bound, no longer chained.
The child of the Hyuga was gone.
---
Konoha in Uproar
When dawn came, Konoha was already seething with rage.
The announcement spread quickly: Kumogakure had stolen the Byakugan under the guise of peace talks.
At first, many believed Kumogakure would deny everything, feign innocence, or accuse Konoha of breaking the treaty. But no one expected the audacity of what followed.
The Fourth Raikage sent an official demand. Kumogakure shamelessly declared that their envoy, Troy, had been murdered in cold blood by Hyuga Hiashi. They demanded Hiashi's body as reparations. If Konoha refused, they threatened open war.
The sheer brazenness of the accusation sent shockwaves through the village.
"How dare they!"
"Despicable!"
"After eight years of war, must we bleed again?"
But public opinion quickly turned. Anger twisted into blame, directed squarely at the Hyuga Clan.
"Why did Hiashi kill him? Was capturing him not enough?"
"Because of one man's arrogance, the entire village may suffer."
"We cannot go to war for the sake of the Hyuga!"
The tide of voices rose like a crashing wave, drowning the Hyuga name. Hiashi became the focus of public outrage.
He lay awake at night, sleepless and restless. Food turned to ash in his mouth. For the first time, he understood what had once driven Hatake Sakumo—the White Fang of Konoha—to despair.
---
The Hokage's Dilemma
Within the Hokage's office, Hiruzen Sarutobi convened an emergency meeting. The tension in the air was palpable, every elder and advisor seated with grim expressions.
Hiashi drew in a deep breath. "Hokage-sama, this was Kumogakure's scheme from the beginning. Their goal was not only the Byakugan but also war itself."
"I know," Hiruzen said heavily, removing his pipe. "All of us here know it is a scheme. But from the moment Troy died at your hand, Hiashi, whether it was a plot or not no longer matters. The facts have already been set."
Hiashi's fists tightened at his sides.
Hiruzen's gaze lowered, a flicker of bitterness in his eyes. The Fourth Raikage's actions were devoid of honor, and yet… Hiashi's strike had given them the excuse they needed.
"Ugh…" Elder Homura Mitokado sighed. "If Hiashi had not killed Troy, we would still have room to maneuver."
Hiashi's jaw clenched, his face hardening. "Under those conditions, what father would not fight to the death to protect his child?"
Silence followed.
Nara Shikaku, seated quietly at the side, spoke at last. His voice was calm, almost detached. "Homura-sama, your words are too shallow. Do you even know who Troy was? During the Third War, he killed several elite jonin. He was no ordinary man. If Troy did not wish to die, Hiashi could never have killed him. If Troy chose death, Hiashi could never have stopped him. This was inevitable. Konoha was deceived this time."
The room grew heavier still.
Danzo Shimura slammed his staff against the floor, his voice cold. "Enough hesitation, Hiruzen. If Kumogakure wants war, let them have it. We will fight to the very end! Do these brigands truly believe Konoha is weak and ready to be trampled?"
Hiruzen exhaled slowly, smoke curling from his pipe. His gaze swept over Danzo but he said nothing, his silence heavier than words.
---