Chapter 26: Defiance and Shadows
Reitō's laugh wasn't loud, but it cut through the Uchiha's mockery with a sharp, unexpected edge. It was the laugh of someone who had faced the Caged Bird and seen the murderous heart of his own clan; the petty arrogance of schoolchildren held no terror for him.
"The Hyūga's 'tail feather' dares to laugh at us?!" one of the Uchiha boys, a particularly sharp-faced one named Uchiha Hibiki, snarled.
Reitō's gaze swept over them, his voice flat and devoid of heat, yet carrying a weight that silenced further jeers. "No one has the right to mock another's dream. Not you. Not anyone."
Uzumaki Kushina blinked, her fiery anger momentarily replaced by surprise, then a warm, grateful smile spread across her face as she looked at Reitō. Even the stern Uno-sensei gave an almost imperceptible nod of approval.
Teacher Sai's benign smile deepened, his eyes sharpening with interest. "An admirable sentiment, Hyūga Reitō-kun. I noticed your assessment scores were exceptional, tied for the top of the class. I must admit, I'm curious. What, then, is your dream?"
All eyes turned to him. The Uchiha watched with scornful curiosity, Minato with respectful attention, Kushina with solidarity.
Reitō stood. He didn't adopt a dramatic pose. He simply stood, and in that simple act, he seemed to draw the room's focus into his calm, white-eyed gaze. "To break the cage," he stated, his voice clear and final.
Silence. The words were simple, but their meaning rippled outwards, interpreted differently by each listener. To the Uchiha, it might have sounded like vague bravado. To Minato, perhaps a philosophical ideal. To Kushina, a rebel's cry. But to Reitō, and to anyone who knew the weight of the mark hidden beneath his forehead protector, it was a vow of war against the very foundation of his existence. He offered no elaboration, no grand speech. He had said all he would say. He sat down.
Sai's eyes flickered to the cloth band covering Reitō's forehead, and a glimmer of understanding—or perhaps calculation—passed through his perpetual smile.
Finally, Namikaze Minato rose. Unlike Kushina's explosive declaration or Reitō's cryptic promise, his voice was calm, earnest, and carried a quiet, immovable conviction. "My dream is to earn the acknowledgement of everyone in the village. To become a Hokage that all can believe in and be proud of."
Another Hokage aspirant. This time, the Uchiha laughter was louder, more derisive. A commoner with no name, aiming for the pinnacle? It was absurd to their clan-centric worldview. Even Kushina looked at him with a mix of admiration and pity, knowing the mountain he sought to climb.
Yet, Uno-sensei grunted, a sound that was almost approving. "Two future Hokages in one class. Ambitious. Good. Ambition forged in discipline becomes strength."
The first day continued with evaluations. The teachers tested foundational skills, gauging the starting line for each prodigy. Uchiha Hibiki, the vocal critic, indeed lived up to his clan's reputation. With a flourish of seals and a burst of concentrated breath, he produced a respectable Fireball Jutsu, the flames roaring to life before dissipating against a designated stone. It was a show of power and heritage that drew impressed murmurs and solidified his claim as a genius, tying him for first place in the entrance exams.
Then it was Reitō's turn. The teachers watched, expecting the fabled Hyūga Gentle Fist or perhaps a demonstration of his Byakugan's range. Instead, Reitō performed the Academy Three with flawless, economical precision. His kunai throws hit the center, his transformation was seamless, his clone stable. It was… perfect. And utterly, disappointingly standard for a top-scoring entrant. The only notable moment was the effortless activation of his Byakugan, the veins appearing around his eyes without a visible hand seal.
"Hmph," Hibiki scoffed, unable to contain himself. "And that's it? That's the 'genius' who tied with me? Did the examiners feel sorry for the branch family cripple?"
The insult hung in the air. Reitō didn't turn, didn't rise to the bait. He simply finished his stance.
And then he was gone.
Not a blur of motion. One moment he was ten feet from Hibiki, the next he was directly behind him, a training kunai held loosely but precisely against the Uchiha boy's throat. There had been no puff of smoke, no dramatic shout. Just a silent, instantaneous translocation.
"Learn to hold your tongue," Reitō murmured, his voice cold and close to Hibiki's ear. "Or someone may relieve you of the burden."
The classroom froze. The two Jonin teachers exchanged a look of profound shock. Uno's eyes narrowed. Sai's smile didn't slip, but his right hand made a subtle, quick gesture below the desk—a signal. One-handed seal. Execution speed: Jonin-level.
"The Body Replacement," Uno-sensei said, his gravelly voice laced with newfound respect. "A fundamental technique, executed at a mastery level that defies his age. Now the ranking makes sense."
The myth of the "tail feather" evaporated in that instant, replaced by the reality of a boy whose calm exterior hid a terrifying, precise lethality.
After the final bell, Reitō stepped out of the Academy, the weight of the day's observations settling on him. He didn't get far.
Uchiha Hibiki and his five clansmen fanned out, blocking the path home. The humiliation in class demanded a more personal answer.
"Hyūga Reitō! I've been waiting!" Hibiki spat, his Sharingan-less eyes burning with outrage.
"Oh?" Reitō replied, his tone bored.
"You made my father lose his post! You embarrassed me in front of everyone! I'm going to teach you what happens when you cross an Uchiha!"
Reitō actually laughed then, a short, humorless sound. So, Uchiha Fusa was this brat's father. The petty cycle of vengeance was already spinning.
"Run? Why would I run?" Reitō asked, his white eyes calmly assessing the six boys. Their chakra was bright, untrained, and agitated. "To be honest, your superior attitudes have been tiresome. Changing the color of those arrogant eyes… black and blue does have a certain appeal."
The provocation was all they needed. They surged forward, not with coordinated strategy, but with angry, clumsy aggression. Even with his Body Replacement, being surrounded by six opponents in an open space was a tactical disadvantage. He could evade, but counterattacking without serious injury would be tricky.
Just as the first Uchiha lunged, a figure dropped from the low-hanging branch of a nearby tree, landing silently between Reitō and his assailants in a crouch. It was Teacher Sai, his gentle smile still in place, but his presence now radiating a quiet, undeniable authority that froze the charging boys in their tracks.
"Now, now, children," Sai said, his voice as pleasant as ever. "School grounds are for learning, not for settling personal vendettas. Run along home."
The Uchiha boys hesitated, cowed by the sudden appearance of a Jonin. Hibiki glared, but under Sai's unwavering gaze, he muttered a curse and jerked his head, leading his group away with sullen, backward glances.
Sai waited until they were out of sight before turning to Reitō. His smile softened, becoming something more thoughtful, more intimate. "A troublesome start, Reitō-kun. The path of a shinobi who stands apart is often a lonely and dangerous one." He paused, his eyes seeming to look through Reitō, assessing the potential he'd seen in class. "The village has… institutions for those with unique talents and difficult circumstances. Places where one's past and one's clan do not dictate one's future. Where power is honed for a greater purpose, free from petty rivalries. Should you ever feel that your current path is too constrained, know that other doors exist. Think on it."
With a final, inscrutable nod, Sai-sensei performed a swift Body Flicker and vanished, leaving Reitō alone on the path. The message was clear, cloaked in benevolence but ringing with implication. Root. Danzō's offer, veiled in teacherly concern, had been extended. The cage of the Hyūga was not the only one in Konoha, and other masters were already looking to recruit the hawk they saw trying to break free.