The residence of the branch family head was dimly lit, and the night air carried a chill.
Thud… Thud…
A dull, rhythmic pounding echoed through the courtyard. There, a pale boy with a bandaged forehead stood, relentlessly striking a wooden post with fluid, practiced blows.
But as he moved, his once-vacant, boyish face began to twist into something distorted, fierce, even hateful. Gone was his usual calmness. The once-gentle fists turned brutal and violent.
He used no chakra. The raw force of his strikes gradually tore his knuckles open, until they were a bloody mess. Blood spattered the dents forming on the wooden surface.
It wasn't practice. It was venting.
Even so, he didn't stop.
In Hyūga Neji's mind, there was only one image, what he had seen a few days ago, the first time he had ever witnessed the curse of the Caged Bird.
As with every other day for the past few years, he had gone to spar with the main family's young lady.
By then, the ugly mark had already been carved into his forehead. Yet he didn't understand what it meant. Naively, he had believed what the others told him, that it was a "duty," a sign that the branch family protected the main family.
Duty.
Those two words meant nothing to him. To Neji, protecting his younger cousin was something any older brother would naturally do.
He had always treated Hinata like a sister, caring for her every day, even without any "duty" forcing him to.
Until that day. That moment.
When he saw, with his own eyes, his revered father clutching his head in agony, body convulsing, screaming and writhing on the ground like a dog.
He had never understood why his father refused to remove his forehead protector, even at home.
But that day, when the protector fell, Neji saw it: the twisted veins bulging like centipedes, the hideous green mark writhing across his father's skin.
And the man who stood before them, the main family head, the one Neji was supposed to call uncle, watched coldly, without a hint of pity, as he activated the curse mark.
"Just this once," said Hyūga Hiashi, his Byakugan gleaming faintly in the dark. "Do not forget your mission."
That was the first time Neji saw the true ugliness of the Caged Bird seal, when he finally understood what it really meant.
That so-called "seal" could destroy the brain's neural pathways at will. It meant that the main family literally held the power of life and death over the branch family.
Should a branch family member ever act out of line, fail their duties, or even think rebellious thoughts, the main family could use the seal to execute them instantly.
To everyone else, this mark, this curse, could only be escaped through death.
From that day forward, the once-gentle Hyūga Neji grew cold. When he looked at Hinata, his eyes no longer carried the warmth of an older brother, but the loathing and hatred of an enemy.
Creak.
Neji bit down hard, striking again and again. In his ears, he could still hear his father's voice, gentle yet resigned.
"Neji, do not hate the main family. The Caged Bird isn't a curse, it's a measure of protection."
"I understand, Father."
"Our Byakugan is coveted by enemies. The main family does this to protect it, to ensure the clan's future."
"I understand, Father."
"It is our duty and destiny as the branch family. One day, you'll understand."
"I understand… Father…"
Crack!!
With a final, shrill snap, the wooden post split clean in half. Sawdust fluttered in the air like snow.
Neji stumbled, falling to his knees. He looked down at his bloodied hands, long black hair hiding his face as he whispered, "I understand, Father…"
'But I don't understand.'
'Why can the main family accept this so easily?'
'Why do they live with it so comfortably?!'
'Those who torment their own kin, how can they sit upon the backs of the branch family so self-righteously, calling our suffering "fate"?!'
Click.
The faint sound of a sliding door broke the heavy silence of the courtyard.
A warm yellow light spilled out behind him. A tall figure approached, his shadow enveloping Neji.
"Neji…"
Hyūga Hizashi's expression was complicated as he looked at his son's back.
After decades, centuries, of "tradition," most branch family children had long been conditioned to accept the idea that they were born to serve the main family.
To rejoice in the main family's praise, to fear their anger, to grieve their sorrow.
Hizashi should have instilled that same mindset into Neji from the beginning, as all others did, but he hadn't.
At times, he regretted it. Yet every time he saw the pure affection on Neji's face when he smiled at Hinata, he was glad he hadn't.
He didn't want Neji and Hinata's relationship to turn into what his own with his brother had become. He wanted Neji, even after being branded with the Caged Bird, to still love Hinata as family, to treat her kindly as he once did.
He had believed that, with Hinata's gentle heart, she would never use the seal on Neji. That they could still be as close as when they were young.
But he hadn't foreseen that one impulsive moment, when he himself had nearly attacked Hinata, would lead to everything that changed Neji forever…
"Father."
Neji stood, hiding his hands behind his back.
Hizashi came back to his senses and smiled softly, placing a hand on Neji's head.
"Neji, your Eight Trigrams Thirty-Two Palms are nearly perfected. In time, I'll teach you the next stage of the Gentle Fist."
"Yes, Father," Neji replied quietly, showing no joy.
Seeing that, Hizashi fell silent, sighing inwardly.
"Go tend to your wounds," he said, glancing at the hands Neji tried to hide. "Don't do this again."
"..." Neji lowered his head. After a pause, he said softly, "Yes, Father."
As Neji walked back toward the house, Hizashi stood motionless in the cold night.
He had once tried to defy fate, but now he knew better. Fate wasn't something you could seize by the throat and choke into submission.
Fate had no flaws. It could advance, or retreat. Neither he nor his son could escape it.
"I just hope," Hizashi murmured to himself, "that as Neji grows older, he'll let go of his hatred. That this suffering he endures now will become the treasure that makes him stronger."
As he turned to leave, a faint, mocking voice drifted through the night air.
"How pitiful," someone said. "The unfortunate always create others even more unfortunate than themselves."