A heroic impulse flared in Uchiha Jin. Observation Haki and Armament Haki humming quietly in his veins — tonight he felt bold enough to try again: slip into the Hyūga compound and end Hinata Aya's problem himself.
Night had wrapped Konoha in black. Jin pulled on dark clothes and left the Uchiha quarters like a shadow. He noticed the ANBU posted along the perimeter — more than twenty — but narrowed his eyes and walked on.
Expected, he thought. The war isn't over; the Hokage faction is nervous. So long as their vigilance doesn't ruin my ability to lie low, who cares?
Fifteen minutes later he reached the Hyūga boundary and switched on Observation Haki. The world rearranged itself into light and pattern: more than thirty pairs of white eyes glowed in his perception — a dozen more secret sentries than his last probe. Jin felt a flicker of relief. He'd been right to wait.
At the same time his lips twisted. The Hyūga are paranoid. This was just the outskirts; if those numbers held deeper inside, the compound would be ringed by white eyes. In that case, how had anyone in the original timeline managed to abduct Hinata? Unless orders and collusion were involved — Danzo, certain ANBU, Hiruzen's consent — some things didn't add up.
He skirted every patrol the Haki revealed, slipping through blind spots and emotional echoes. Where avoidance failed, he had other options. He'd once considered a false-flag: frame a Kumogakure intruder, stage a kidnapping. After talking with Nara Kazama, however, Jin had learned one lesson clearly: the more elaborate the plot, the more threads to pull and the more clues left behind. Random, ruthless action left fewer traces.
So he decided: be surgical. In, take the eyes, get out. If need be, take a few lives and erase witnesses. The calculus was cold but simple — and for once he accepted it without theatrics.
Half an hour later he'd reached the inner lines. He moved like a professional: soft-footed, efficient. Doors opened and closed under his touch. No forced theatrics. No useless violence.
He burst into a particularly decadent side-house where Hyūga Gen'ichi was leering over branch-family girls. The man's face went slack when he saw Jin. He started to shout; his warning cut off with a clean stroke. Jin removed the Byakugan methodically, no hesitation. He slaughtered the witnesses who had seen everything and left as quietly as he had entered.
Walking away, he let a dry, flat voice trail after him. "Don't blame me. There's a price for what you do. I only clear the threat."
He did not pretend the killings sat well with him. He didn't enjoy taking lives. He had sworn to avoid needless bloodshed. But once a large, explosive crime was inevitable, leaving living witnesses who could later identify him was a far greater danger. Better a few dead than a trail leading to his doorstep.
On the way back he smothered his tracks: burned the night clothing in a small controlled blaze, scrubbed himself clean, changed into pajamas. He checked the compound perimeter again with Observation Haki — no stray eyes burning hot on his trail. The night felt tight and finished.
Perfect, he thought, stretching like a man who had finished an errand. No prints, no obvious leads. Even if Shikaku came sniffing, he'll find nothing to follow.
He yawned, lay down, and let the familiar lazy contentment of a job done properly wash over him. For the moment, the Hyūga problem was solved. The fallout could be handled later — and if any investigation tried to tie the murders to him, he had contingencies for that too.
He closed his eyes.
Sleep well, Konoha. Don't dream of Byakugan.