Morning in the Hyūga compound always began in silence.
Before the sun rose, before the main family stirred, before even the branch house opened their doors, a small boy was already awake—brushing fallen leaves from the stone path of the eastern garden.
No one called his name.
No one ever had.
He moved with the quiet precision of someone who had learned long ago that making noise brought trouble. Each sweep of the broom was slow, controlled, perfectly measured. Not because he wanted perfection—because any imperfection invited punishment.
"Faster. You're too slow."
A servant woman passed by and clicked her tongue at him. She did not bother stopping. No one ever did. Her voice was flat, more annoyed by his existence than by his work.
He bowed his head silently.
"Yes."
He always answered softly. Too soft, some said. As if even his voice was afraid to exist.
The woman walked off, muttering under her breath. Something about "illegitimate" and "bad luck." Nothing he had not heard before.
Renji—though only he knew that name—continued sweeping.
The eastern garden was beautiful in the morning light. White stones arranged in careful spirals, trimmed hedges, a small pond reflecting the soft blue of dawn. But beauty meant nothing to him. It was simply another place he was allowed to be, as long as he kept his head down.
Footsteps approached, light and hesitant.
He did not need to look up to recognize them.
"Um…"
A tiny voice. Gentle. Shy.
Lady Hinata.
He stopped sweeping and knelt immediately, hands folded on the ground, head bowed. She was only a small girl—barely four—but already the heiress, already someone he could not speak to unless spoken to.
Hinata shuffled closer, hands fidgeting in front of her.
"G-Good morning…"
A beat of silence.
Renji kept his forehead lowered, staring at the stone tiles. Her presence always felt warm, but he forced himself not to lift his gaze. He was not allowed.
"Good morning, Lady Hinata," he whispered.
She knelt beside him. He froze.
He could feel her soft breaths, her nervous fidgeting, her small hands tapping the ground as if unsure where to place them. Hinata often did this—quietly approaching him, watching him work as if trying to gather courage.
"Y-You… You're always working…" she murmured. "Um… I… I wanted to say… thank you."
His throat tightened.
He did not know why her gratitude hurt more than insults.
"You owe me nothing," he said softly.
Hinata shook her head. "I… I just wanted to say it."
Her sincerity made him feel strangely unsteady. He wished he could look at her face, even once. But he kept his gaze buried in the floor.
A sudden sharp voice shattered the moment.
"Lady Hinata! You mustn't sit there!"
One of the clan attendants rushed forward, pulling Hinata away. The girl nearly stumbled. Renji instinctively reached out to steady her—but stopped his hand mid-air as the attendant glared at him.
"Do not dare touch the heiress."
"Yes," Renji whispered, withdrawing his hand immediately.
Hinata looked between them anxiously. "I-It's not his fault…"
"Lady Hinata, please," the attendant insisted, bowing to her respectfully before throwing Renji a cold, warning stare. "You should not linger near him. It is improper."
The girl's lips trembled slightly, but she nodded and allowed herself to be led away.
Renji returned to sweeping.
Not because anyone told him to.
But because he had no other place to stand.
Breakfast in the Hyūga compound was always eaten in strict silence.
Main family at the front. Branch family behind them. Servants at the edges—standing, backs straight, waiting to serve.
Renji stood among them, hands clasped neatly, eyes fixed on the floor. His stomach growled quietly, but he ignored it. Servants ate later, if anything was left.
"Why is he even allowed near the dining hall?" a branch member whispered sharply.
"He's not a branch child nor a main child… just a mistake."
"A stain," another muttered.
Renji kept his breathing steady.
Insults had become a routine, like brushing teeth or folding bedding. Predictable. Simple. He only reacted when they grew quiet—that was when punishment usually followed.
When the meal began, he moved silently between tables, pouring tea and placing dishes without making eye contact.
A main elder watched him with narrowed eyes.
"That child is dangerous," the elder murmured.
Renji stiffened but continued serving.
"Dangerous? He's barely alive," a branch member whispered.
"No," the elder said, gaze sharpening. "I've seen how he moves. He copies techniques he should not know. His chakra control is… unnatural."
Renji's chest tightened.
He had not meant to be noticed. He never wanted to be noticed. He trained in secret behind the storehouse, only at night, only when sure no one was watching.
But Hyūga eyes never missed anything.
"He must be disciplined," the elder said.
Renji bowed his head lower, hiding the anxiety swirling in his heart.
Later that afternoon, he carried laundry baskets down the wooden corridor. His small hands shook slightly from exhaustion, but he kept walking.
He passed by a room where voices whispered.
"—cannot let him remain unmarked."
"—too early. He's just a child."
"—then brand him when he turns four. The sooner the better."
His steps faltered.
Not yet, he thought. Not yet. Please…
He did not know exactly what "branding" meant, but every servant reacted with fear at the mention of the Caged Bird Seal. He had seen the branch members touch their foreheads sometimes, eyes distant, as if remembering pain.
If they feared it…
What would it do to him?
He placed the laundry basket down quietly, making no sound as he continued down the hall.
Fear was a heavy thing. It did not make noise. It simply lived inside the chest, expanding with every heartbeat.
As he finished folding blankets outside the training room, he heard laughter.
Hinata peeked out from behind a doorway—smiling softly at him.
For a moment, just a moment, he forgot the cold stares and whispered threats.
"Ren…ji…" she whispered shyly, struggling with his name.
His heart skipped.
She had remembered it.
He bowed deeply, hiding the tiny, painful smile forming on his lips.
"Lady Hinata."
She giggled softly.
That sound alone was enough to carry him through another day.
But in the shadows behind him, a pair of pale eyes watched with disapproval.
Too close, the elder thought.
It is time to prepare the seal.
Renji remained unaware.
For now… he swept floors, carried baskets, and knelt quietly beside the heiress he could never look at—never knowing how quickly his life would soon be taken from him… and rewritten with pain.
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