"Who's there? Show yourself!"
The moment the voice echoed through the air, Hyuga Hizashi's instincts kicked in—he activated his Byakugan without hesitation.
But what he saw—or rather, didn't see—sent a chill down his spine.
There was no one.
Aside from Neji behind him, the entire area was empty. No chakra signatures, no hidden enemies, nothing. Just the rustling of leaves, the whisper of the wind, and the rhythmic thud of his own heartbeat.
Even the insects had seemingly gone mute.
Frowning, Hizashi swept his Byakugan across the surrounding trees. Nothing.
"Where are you looking?"
That ethereal voice spoke again.
Hizashi's breath caught. This time, the voice was clearer, almost as if it had whispered directly into his ear. He spun around, eyes wide, locking onto the space behind him.
Still nothing.
The trees stood silently in their places, leaves swaying gently like they hadn't just tried to give him a heart attack. Shadows shifted in the wind, teasing shapes that could've been people—if you stared long enough and had a vivid imagination. Which, to be fair, Hizashi did.
Then came the footsteps.
Soft. Unhurried. Almost casual, like someone taking a stroll through a garden—except that garden was the heart of the Hyuga clan's compound, one of the most heavily guarded and Byakugan-ridden places in the entire village.
Yet the intruder moved with the nonchalance of someone who'd already stolen a snack from the fridge and knew no one was going to catch them.
A moment later, a figure stepped out from the shadows.
To Hizashi's Byakugan, the black cloak bled across his vision like ink in water, a shape too strange, too wrong. The man stopped a few feet away, still shrouded in his hood. Hizashi focused his gaze, trying to pierce the darkness under the hood and see the face hidden beneath.
But there was nothing. Just a roiling void, like the shadows themselves had congealed into a barrier, swallowing his gaze and refusing to give even a scrap in return.
A monster born from the void.
The thought hit him with disturbing clarity, and a drop of sweat slid down the side of his temple.
Whoever this was, they'd entered the Leaf unnoticed, slipped past the village's sensory barrier, and waltzed into the Hyuga clan's territory—unseen by a dozen Byakugan users on patrol.
And he still couldn't sense the man, even though he was standing right there.
Even more terrifying—he'd only noticed the intruder because they chose to speak.
What kind of technique was this? Genjutsu? No, even that shouldn't suppress Byakugan perception.
Some sort of Kekkei Genkai?
Even the Transparent Escape Technique couldn't manage something like this.
"Who are you?" Hizashi asked, buying time while subtly slipping his hand into his robe to activate the emergency signal—just in case.
"If you try to send that signal," the man said flatly, "I'll slit your throat before it leaves your lips. And before reinforcements arrive, I'll kill the child behind you too."
The words were delivered calmly, without menace or emphasis—but the killing intent behind them was absolute.
Hizashi froze.
His fingers halted an inch from the flare trigger.
The man's eerie presence, the emotionless tone, and that strange power that hid him even from the Byakugan... Hizashi didn't doubt a single word.
If anything, this man could probably vanish just as easily as he appeared, leaving behind two corpses and not a whisper of evidence.
Could he really kill Hizashi in an instant?
"…What do you want?" Hizashi finally asked, pulling his hand out of his robe slowly and locking eyes with the shadowed figure.
He wasn't ready to gamble with Neji's life. His own, maybe. But not the boy's.
Whatever this man wanted, at least he wasn't attacking.
Yet.
And what Hizashi couldn't have guessed—what his racing thoughts didn't even consider—was that he had already met this man once before. Recently, in fact.
The black-cloaked figure… was Hyuga Unkawa.
Unkawa said nothing for a long moment. Just stared at him.
And then, finally, he spoke.
"You said that all of a child's suffering would become a treasure… that it would make them stronger."
His voice was rough, like old paper torn too many times, and yet Hizashi found himself oddly relieved. The man was talking. That was something.
But despite his calm tone, the feeling that washed over Hizashi was suffocating. It was like the man's gaze had weight, pressing down on him from above.
Every inch of Hizashi's skin felt like it was being gripped by invisible hands. Tightened. Slowly.
"…What are you trying to say?" Hizashi asked, pushing down his unease.
"You're lying to yourself," Unkawa said simply. "Suffering is just suffering. It's not noble. It's not strength. It's not a damn treasure."
"It drains you. Makes you bitter. Twists your heart until you can't feel anything but rage."
His voice curled into something like a cruel smile. "Just like what your parents did to you."
Hizashi's pupils twitched.
"They shattered your beliefs," Unkawa continued, "and jammed in their own. Their values. Their worldview. They told you to be obedient. They broke you down piece by piece. They told you this was right. That this was fate."
"You tried to resist. You tried to escape. And what did they do? They shouted. They turned violent. They cut off your hands and feet and stuffed you in a cage."
"They hit you. Cursed you. Begged you. Anything but let you go. They said you were wrong. That they were right. That it was 'for your own good.' And in the end… you gave up. You joined them."
Hizashi flinched. His expression twisted as if someone had driven a blade through his ribs.
Unkawa's words weren't merely harsh—they were surgical. Precise. Cutting through the hardened shell Hizashi had built over the years and stabbing straight into the soft, decaying core he tried to ignore.
"And now," Unkawa said, gaze burning through him, "you see your child walking the same path you once did. Angry. Trapped. Furious at the world."
"You think he'll submit too. Crawl like a dog. Accept fate."
"So you—"
"Enough!"
Hizashi's voice cracked, more a growl than a command. It burst out of him like something he'd been choking on for years.
Every word had hurt. Cut. Every sentence dragged up a memory long buried—faces blurred with time but voices sharp as ever.
"You don't know anything!" Hizashi spat, trembling. "I—I did it for—"
He stopped.
The words wouldn't come out.
For Neji?
Wasn't that exactly what Unkawa had just said?
Hizashi suddenly turned pale. His stomach lurched. He clutched his mouth and gagged.
Disgusting.
Not the man in front of him—himself.
He hated how real it felt. How deep the truth had gone without him noticing. He couldn't even remember when he'd stopped understanding Neji. When the boy had started to look more like a stranger than a son.
It was him. He was the one who had shown Neji what hatred looked like.
He was the one who'd said it was fate.
And why?
Because he was born fifteen minutes later than his brother.
Fifteen minutes.
That was all it took to have a cursed seal branded onto his head, to be told his life belonged to someone else.
He'd once raged against it. Now?
Now he called it destiny.
When had that started?
When had he stopped fighting?
"There are some birds," Unkawa said, stepping closer, "that you can't cage."
His voice was lower now. Softer. Almost coaxing.
"Every feather glows with the light of freedom. They were born for the sky."
He stopped beside Hizashi.
"Hyuga Hizashi," he said. "Tell me your choice."
"Will you keep being the executioner? The one who clips their wings, rips out their flight, and calls it love?"
"Or will you become… a father?"