"Hey-ya!"
With a loud shout, two figures in the yard embraced each other—right as the massive tree behind them came crashing down.
It was hard to believe a six-year-old girl had done that with her bare hands.
Senju Style: Monstrous Strength Technique.
It looked simple on the surface—but in reality, it was anything but.
The principle was easy to describe: gather chakra into your limbs and release it all at once. But the technique itself required an incredibly advanced level of chakra control and reinforcement.
As every shinobi knows, force always has a reaction.
Without medical-grade chakra shielding the muscles and bones, the backlash alone would shatter the user's own body.
In short: this was high-level ninjutsu disguised as raw physical power.
Under the corridor eaves, a kind-faced woman sipped tea, her eyes warm as she watched the child train.
She was Uzumaki Mito—wife of the First Hokage, and the very first jinchūriki of the Nine-Tails.
Behind the scenes, she remained one of the most quietly powerful figures in all of Konoha. Though she rarely took action herself, her presence carried immense weight.
After another sip, Mito called out gently:
"Tsunade-chan, don't overdo it. Come drink some water."
"No, Grandma Mito!" Tsunade shouted back without turning around. She kept throwing punches, her chakra control sharpened with each strike.
"You really are something," Mito said, half-laughing. "The trees in the yard aren't enough to put a scratch on you, but still—come rest."
"There's plenty more where that came from! It's a forest!" Tsunade huffed, still punching the air. She didn't strike the wooden stake unless she felt an improvement. Her training had outpaced her equipment.
"I've never seen you this motivated before," Mito said curiously. "Something happen?"
Tsunade gritted her teeth, staying silent as sweat rolled down her face.
Mito smiled knowingly.
"Tell Grandma. I'll help you."
To her, Tsunade was the perfect heir—blessed with the vast chakra and vitality of both the Senju and Uzumaki bloodlines. Even now, she surpassed most kids in the academy by a wide margin.
In taijutsu and medical ninjutsu especially, she was already more talented than her grandfather Hashirama at that age.
If Tsunade had suddenly become so serious… then she must have met her match.
Eventually, Tsunade stopped. She turned with a sulky look, cheeks puffed slightly.
"…No matter how hard I try, I can't beat her," she admitted. "I don't stand a chance with just taijutsu. And you won't let me learn ninjutsu! If I knew Fire Release, I wouldn't be in this mess!"
"Tsunade." Mito's tone was calm. "If you master even one thing in your life, you'll already be a powerful shinobi. Coveting every type of ninjutsu just weakens your foundation."
"That doesn't help me now! You said you'd help—then teach me a ninjutsu that can beat her!"
"…I haven't even asked who 'she' is yet."
"Maki! Aburame Maki!"
Mito blinked. "The Aburame clan? Did she use flame insects?"
Tsunade paused. "Huh? What the heck is that? No, Grandma—you're confused. It's called 'parasite bugs!'"
"I'm not senile," Mito snorted. "But if they were flame bugs, Fire Release would be pointless."
Unlike the Third Hokage, Mito had witnessed the old Warring States-era shinobi firsthand—and she knew how terrifying the Aburame could truly be.
"No way… You mean I really can't win?" Tsunade looked heartbroken.
"Who says you can't?" Mito rose to her feet. "Wait here a moment."
She returned inside and, after a short while, came back carrying two enormous scrolls—larger than Tsunade herself.
"These were left to you by your grandfather," Mito said softly, a nostalgic smile on her lips.
Tsunade's eyes widened. "What are they!?"
"Summoning contracts," Mito replied with a grin. "With these, losing won't be so easy."
"Grandma, you're the best!" Tsunade squealed, hugging both scrolls with joy.
"How do I use them?" she asked, eyes sparkling.
"Just smear some blood on your fingerprints. Then take your time learning. I'm content now," Mito said, voice gentle.
"Okay!" Tsunade nodded enthusiastically.
She couldn't wait to try them out.
---
Meanwhile, in the Hyuga compound, a different kind of training took place.
Compared to Tsunade's explosive sessions, Hitomi's movements were quiet and refined.
A single wooden training post was enough to keep her busy for hours.
"Not enough…"
"Still not enough…"
Her hands, tightly wrapped in bandages, were already soaked in blood.
The sharp crack of fists against wood echoed through the training yard.
Hitomi kept striking the wooden post relentlessly. Unlike Tsunade, she couldn't rely on medical ninjutsu to heal her wounds. Every bruise and cut had to heal on its own—each scar a testament to her effort.
"Miss," a nearby maid called out, her voice full of concern. "You've been like this for days…"
A few steps away, an older man watched in silence. His features were worn by time, yet his presence remained unshaken—this was Hyuga Tennin. Though no one called him by that name anymore. Long ago, he was known as a legend, said to rival both Uchiha Madara and Senju Hashirama. He was also the former head of the Hyuga Clan.
And he was Hitomi's father.
Her brother now led the clan. Hitomi, born to the wrong line at the wrong time, had long been dismissed as unremarkable.
Tennin stepped forward and stood before her.
Hitomi paused, her fists lowering as she faced him. She didn't speak. Her gaze dropped.
They didn't resemble father and daughter. They looked more like the main house staring down a branch family member.
"Do you want to dance?" Tennin asked quietly.
Hitomi clenched her fists. She didn't answer.
"In this world, only geniuses get to dance," Tennin continued. "You're not one. Neither am I."
Silence.
"You can't even speak up for yourself. What's the point of struggling?"
"Better to accept your fate. Be someone's bride. Bear their children. Then die quietly."
He narrowed his eyes.
"Peaceful death is a luxury, you know."
"So why resist?"
"This rebellion of yours is pitiful."
"You want to dance like a bird, but you never will."
"You're too weak."
"What's so bad about the cage, anyway? Even if you break out, all you'll find is a larger cage."
"There are storms out there. Predators. Monsters."
"I'm not afraid," Hitomi whispered.
"What was that?" Tennin asked.
"I said I'm not afraid!" she shouted, louder this time. "I'll fly! I'll fly far, higher than anyone else! I'm never staying in a cage! No storm, no one, will stop me!"
Tennin's eyes opened.
Byakugan. The pressure in the air changed instantly.
Without lifting a finger, he released a crushing wave of chakra. It slammed into Hitomi, pinning her to the ground.
"So what if you're not afraid?" he said coldly. "This is the ninja world. Strength decides everything."
Struggling under the weight, Hitomi gritted her teeth, her body trembling. Still, she tried to rise.
"You're just a regular girl," Tennin muttered. "Compared to real monsters, you're nothing."
"Shut up!" Hitomi growled, her voice raw. "I'll show you! I'll prove you wrong!"
She pushed herself upward with all her strength. Something cracked. The pain was blinding—her bones had broken. She collapsed again, her body covered in dirt and grass.
Tennin glanced back at her. "So much for hard work. Pathetic."
He turned and began to walk away.
"I told you not to underestimate me!" Hitomi screamed after him, her body shaking from the pain.
Tennin paused.
"…Then show me how high you can fly."
As he walked off, a scroll slipped from his sleeve and landed on the ground behind him—perhaps by accident.
The maid rushed to Hitomi's side. She'd finally passed out from the pain. The maid picked her up, then noticed the scroll nearby.
Curious, she picked it up and cautiously opened it.
She took one look inside and gasped—then shut it immediately.
This wasn't something she should see.
Secret Hyuga Art – Gentle Fist: Hidden Form
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