"Who's there?! Come out!"
The instant the voice reached his ears, Hyūga Hizashi activated his Byakugan without hesitation.
But to his shock, his vision revealed nothing, no one besides Neji.
Only the wind and the rustle of leaves accompanied the sound of his own breathing and heartbeat. Even the insects had gone silent.
Hizashi's eyes darted about, scanning every direction, but there was no trace of the voice's source.
"Where are you looking?"
The ethereal voice came again.
This time, it was clearer. Hizashi spun toward the sound, his gaze sharp, his senses straining.
But once again, nothing.
Just the trees, standing silently under the moonlight. The thick leaves swayed and cast flickering shadows that almost seemed to hide countless unseen figures.
Then, footsteps.
Light, unhurried footsteps. Even from the sound alone, Hizashi could sense how relaxed the person was. Despite walking through the heart of the Hyūga compound, surrounded by watchful Byakugan, it sounded like someone taking a leisurely stroll through a garden.
Moments later, a silhouette emerged from the darkness. The blackness of his figure bled through even Hizashi's Byakugan, like ink spreading across white paper.
The figure stopped before him. Hizashi's gaze locked onto the face beneath the dark hood, trying to pierce the shadows and see the person's features.
But there was only darkness, dense and alive, shifting like a living thing. His probing gaze was swallowed whole, devoured without mercy or trace.
A monster from the abyss.
That thought sprang unbidden to his mind. Cold sweat slid down his temple.
Someone had infiltrated Konoha, slipped past its detection barriers, entered the Hyūga compound, and stood before him, yet remained completely invisible to the Byakugan's perception.
The man was right in front of him, and still, he couldn't sense a thing.
If this person hadn't spoken, Hizashi realized with a chill, he could have had his throat slit from behind without even knowing.
'What kind of technique was this?'
'A hidden art?'
'A bloodline limit?'
'Even the Transparent Release couldn't achieve this.'
"Who are you?"
Hizashi's mind raced, analyzing possibilities while his hand subtly moved toward his robe to trigger the emergency alert.
"If you send that signal," the stranger said calmly, "I'll have enough time to slit your throat, and kill that child, before anyone arrives."
The tone was emotionless, but filled with a chilling certainty.
Hizashi froze, his hand stopping mid-motion.
The intruder's unnatural presence and quiet confidence made it impossible to doubt his words.
With such a terrifying ability to suppress detection, if he could kill Hizashi instantly, he could vanish again without a trace.
So, did he truly have that power?
"…"
Hizashi slowly withdrew his hand and stared coldly at the black figure.
"What do you want?" he asked.
He didn't dare gamble.
This man was too strange.
His own life meant little, but Neji was just behind him.
And since the intruder hadn't attacked immediately, perhaps he didn't come to kill.
What Hizashi couldn't know was that the shadow before him, the being he now regarded with such wariness and fear, was someone he had met not long ago.
The black figure, didn't answer. He simply watched Hizashi in silence.
The air grew heavy again. Only the sound of the wind rustling through leaves broke the stillness, along with Hizashi's tense breathing and the quickening thump of his heart.
Just when the silence became unbearable, and Hizashi's fingers twitched with the urge to strike,
"You said the child's suffering would become a treasure that makes him stronger?"
The shadow finally spoke. His voice was hoarse and eerie, but Hizashi, strangely, felt relieved to hear it.
Though they stood at equal height, the black figure somehow seemed to look down on him. His gaze swept over Hizashi slowly, coldly, as though invisible hands were wrapping around his skin, pressing tighter, threatening to squeeze the blood from his veins.
"What are you trying to say?" Hizashi asked, frowning.
"You're lying to yourself," Arata said softly. "Suffering is just suffering. It's nothing noble, nothing to glorify. It isn't a gift, it's a poison that eats you alive."
"It drains your flesh and blood, leaves you sensitive, bitter, broken."
His tone turned mocking.
"Just like what your parents did to you."
Hizashi's eyes widened slightly.
"They shattered your beliefs," Arata continued, voice calm yet cutting. "They filled your head with their own values, their world, their rules. They told you to obey. They scolded you, belittled you, insisting they were right. That it was your fate."
"You wanted to fight back. But when you did, their faces changed. They shouted at you, broke you, caged you. They hit you, pleaded with you, told you it was for your own good. Until, finally, you gave in. You joined them."
Hizashi's expression hardened, his lips trembling.
Arata's voice pressed on, merciless:
"And years later, when you saw your child, the same as you once were, you thought he would kneel, like you did. That he would bow his head and accept fate like a dog. So you-"
"Enough!"
The roar tore from Hizashi's throat before he could stop it.
The words cut deep, too deep. Each one was a blade slicing open old wounds. He trembled, his whole body shaking.
Every sentence dragged him back to memories he wanted to forget, to blurred faces, to words he could still hear echoing in the dark.
"What do you know?!" he shouted through gritted teeth. "I, I did it for-"
The rest caught in his throat. His Adam's apple moved, but no sound came out.
'For Neji's sake?'
'Wasn't that exactly what the figure had said?'
"Kuh, ugh!"
A wave of nausea rose up in him. Hizashi clutched his mouth, his face turning pale.
Disgust.
Not at the stranger, but at himself.
He didn't want to admit it, but deep down, he knew, he truly couldn't understand Neji anymore. He couldn't understand why his son hated so much.
After all, he had been the one who once turned his killing intent on Hinata. He had been in the wrong.
And yet…
He no longer understood the rebellious young man he once was.
He had been born only fifteen minutes later than his brother, Hiashi. Fifteen minutes, and that short span had cost him everything. Freedom, name, self.
He had resisted once. Questioned fate. But now… now he only thought: Isn't this simply destiny?
When had that change happened?
What had he become?
"Some birds cannot be caged," Arata said softly, stepping closer, his words smooth as silk and heavy as lead. "Their feathers shine with freedom. They belong to the sky."
He stopped at Hizashi's side, voice low and almost hypnotic.
"Hyūga Hizashi, tell me, what is your choice?"
"Will you be the cruel executioner, who breaks the bird's wings and chains it forever?"
"Or will you be a father?"