We reached the outer wall of the Hyūga compound just as the sun began to sink behind the village rooftops. The gates opened without a word, the guards already recognizing Kazou-sensei's chakra signature. As the four of us stepped through, I felt the shift immediately—like slipping into still water after a run through the forest.
Everything inside was calm. Controlled.
Kazou-sensei slowed, then turned to face us. "Good work. We kept pace, covered the full route, and you followed instructions without getting yourselves maimed. I'm calling that a win."
Takeshi gave a lopsided grin. "Sensei, your confidence in us is overwhelming."
"You want confidence? Don't trip on tree roots," Kazou said dryly.
Iwata said nothing, but he bowed sharply, as did I.
Kazou rolled his shoulder and glanced down the path toward the main house. "I'll go report to the elders. You three are dismissed for the evening. Clean up, rest, and be ready to resume morning drills."
"Understood," we said in unison.
He turned and walked off without another word, disappearing down a branching path that led toward the upper compound—where only main house members and their personal guards were allowed without permission.
I stood there for a moment, letting my shoulders relax.
The moment Kazou-sensei was out of sight, Takeshi stretched with a loud groan. "Ughhh, I swear my spine is permanently misaligned."
"You need to work on your landing form," Iwata said.
"I land like a cat."
"You land like a cat falling off a roof."
"Rude."
I bit back a smile. "I'm going home. If I don't wash this dust off soon, it's going to fuse with my skin."
Takeshi made a mock bow. "As expected of our little princess."
I raised an eyebrow. "Jealousy doesn't look good on you."
"Neither does sweat," he muttered.
Iwata gave a short nod. "See you tomorrow."
We split up there—each of us heading toward our corner of the compound. I turned down the long pathway that cut through the heart of the branch district, already hearing the evening bells ringing from the central towers.
The smell of steamed rice and roasted fish drifted through the air. Children ran ahead of their parents, arms outstretched like wings. Adults moved with purpose, dressed in simple robes, carrying baskets, water jars, and tools.
The Hyūga Clan was so very different from what had been described in the anime. I couldn't say whatever that was because the clan would change in the future, or because it had just not been shown in detail.
But the clan was massive in size and scale, a small village of its own.
The main family sat at its peak, arranged across nine families—eight under elders, one led by the clan head himself—but that was just the crown. The real body of the clan pulsed here, in the branch family's quarters, where thousands lived, worked, trained, and served.
And despite the weight of that word—served—it wasn't miserable.
As much as we were servants, enslaved by the seals on our foreheads, the main family still treated us reasonably well
We were, after all, the foundation of their power, and their pride; without us, there would be no clan at all.
Sure, a few of the hundred or two hundred members of the main family might treat us badly, but it was rare. And given my position in the clan, even the main family, who often ignored the branch clan, still treated me warmly.
I was, after all, very talented, even if I was only slightly more pure than the average Hyūga, yet my talent with the Byakugan was beyond anyone else's.
And that wasn't going to change, even now, I could open them without hand signs, something most couldn't do until their mid-teens, and even then, plenty less talented clansmen never achieved that feat at all.
Honestly, I don't get the point of using such a thing at all. After all, I never used such a thing when I was in my main body. And neither did my son, nor his son. It took many years before hand signs even became a thing.
So the fact that people needed it just to use their own eyes was ridiculous.
Truly, how far the world had fallen without my guidance.
"Mom! I'm home." I shouted as I reached our modest little house.
The door was already open, and the scent of warm broth drifted out into the evening air. The paper lanterns had been lit along the walkway, casting soft light across the garden stones. My sandals hit the threshold, and I tugged off my dust-covered outer robe with a sigh.
"In the kitchen!" her voice called back.
I stepped in and found her at the stove, sleeves tied up, stirring a pot with practiced ease. A half-cut daikon sat on the counter beside her, and two bowls were already set out on the low table.
"You're filthy," she said without turning around.
"I slept in a bush and got dive-bombed by Takeshi's poor balance. It was a long day."
"I believe it." She gave the stew a final stir and turned toward me, holding out a damp cloth. "Wipe your face before you sit."
I did as told, the cloth warm and rough against my skin. A small comfort, but a real one. I slid onto the cushion across from her and took in the little things I'd missed while I was out: the vase of fresh camellias on the windowsill, the extra pair of chopsticks left on the tray in case Father came home early, the faint hum of neighbors through the wall, laughing over dinner.
"Mission go well?" she asked as she served up the soup.
"Fine. Kazou-sensei was in one of his lecture moods. We did half the patrol while he talked about how chakra settles in the soil and how the wrong kind of silence is more dangerous than noise."
"That sounds like him."
"Takeshi fell out of a tree."
"That also sounds like him."
I snorted into my soup.
For a while, we just ate. No rush. No pressure. The world outside the house always seemed to demand things from me—discipline, humility, precision—but inside, I was just her daughter.
"Are they treating you well?" she asked after a moment.
"They're not cruel," I said. "Not to me."
She nodded. "And the other two?"
"Iwata barely speaks. Takeshi won't stop speaking. I guess they cancel each other out."
She smiled softly.
"I get the feeling Kazou-sensei put me with them for a reason," I added.
"He did. You're meant to balance each other." She paused. "And also to be watched. You're important to them now."
"Because of Hiashi?"
"Because of what you represent," she said gently.
I didn't answer. I didn't need to.
She reached across the table and brushed a strand of hair from my face. "You're doing well, Yuki. I know it's tiring."
"It is," I admitted. "Sometimes I want to punch the entire clan in the face."
"That's fair. But wait until you're strong enough to do it all at once."
That got a real laugh out of me.
After dinner, I grabbed a fresh robe and slipped out of the house before my mother could remind me to fold my laundry.
The nearest bathhouse was only a short walk away—built along the edge of the branch district, nestled beside a small bamboo grove where steam curled lazily into the night air. The building itself was plain but well-kept, a long structure of wooden walls and frosted windows that glowed from within.
As I stepped inside, warmth hit me immediately. The scent of cedar, soap, and mineral-rich water filled the air.
"Evening, Yuki-chan," the old woman behind the counter greeted. She barely looked up from her knitting. "You look like you rolled through a field."
"Such is the life of a field shinobi." I said.
"Ah, the glamorous life of a shinobi," she replied with a grin. "Buckets are in the usual spot. Don't track mud past the second step this time."
I bowed politely and made my way in.
The changing room was half-full, voices low and comfortable. Most of the girls here were around my age or a little older, already in the middle of drying their hair or slipping into fresh robes. I caught sight of Nanako toward the back, her pale hair tied up in a messy knot as she struggled to fold her towel.
"You look like someone shoved you through a pine tree," she said as soon as she saw me.
"They didn't shove me," I said. "One of my teammates fell on me."
"Oh, of course." She gave a dramatic sigh. "Boys."
We walked into the bathing room together. Steam rose in soft clouds around the edges of the spring, and the sound of running water echoed gently off the tile. I slipped onto a stool and started scrubbing down with a firm-bristled brush. Nanako sat beside me, humming softly.
"I heard Kazou-sensei took you out," she said. "First field run?"
"Yeah. North ridge patrol."
"Fancy."
"Not really," I said. "Kazou lectured the whole time, and my two teammates were troublesome; I could have used another girl on the team."
"Tell me about it," Nanako sighed. "I got stuck on inventory duty this morning. Do you know how many different kinds of gauze there are?"
"Too many?"
"Seventeen. Seventeen, Yuki."
I blinked. "That's… actually impressive."
"I know, right?" she huffed, scrubbing behind her ears. "And the worst part? If you mislabel even one, the senior medics treat you like you tried to poison someone."
I couldn't help but smile.
Once clean, we slid into the bath, the hot water lapping gently against our skin. The heat settled into my muscles, chasing away the cold from the forest trail and the stiffness from the hard tree limbs we'd slept on. Around us, a handful of other girls were already soaking, chatting quietly or leaning against the stone ledges with their eyes closed.
"Any weird encounters?" Nanako asked after a while. "Bandits? Traps? Rabid squirrels?"
"Nothing like that," I said. "Just signs that someone passed through a few days ago. Kazou said not everything out there is dangerous—but that you should act like it might be anyway."
"Sounds about right."
We lapsed into a quiet moment, just the soft sound of the water and the low murmur of other conversations floating around us. Then one of the girls across the spring called over, "So, is it true you're going to marry the clan heir?"
I let out a slow breath. That question again.
"It's been discussed," I said, keeping my tone light.
"Lucky," someone muttered. "You'll get the best silk robes and won't have to work again."
"Yeah, and your kids will be part of the main family, it's like a dream come true." Nanako added. To which everyone swooned.
It was almost like a fairy tale. The commoner marrying the prince. And it was really close to that in reality.
I knew the story well. So did they. The way they looked at me sometimes—like I had already stepped into silk slippers and moved into one of those airy, perfumed rooms on the main family grounds—it was flattering, I guess.
If only they knew what that actually meant.
"Just don't forget us when you move into the big house," someone joked from across the pool.
"Especially not if they've got heated floors," added another.
I smirked and let my head tip back against the stone. "You act like I'm leaving tomorrow."
"Maybe not tomorrow, but you're already halfway there," Nanako said, nudging my leg under the water. "You're the only one our age who gets tea invitations from the main house."
"They don't invite me for my tea skills," I muttered.
"No," she said, "but they do ask you to stand behind Hiashi-sama during formal events. That counts."
I didn't reply. I didn't have to. They were right, after all. The elders had already started positioning me. The extra etiquette lessons. The silences in rooms I wasn't meant to hear. The way some of the senior women had started calling me little lady instead of by name.
But that didn't mean I liked it.
Another girl sank deeper into the water and sighed dreamily. "Imagine getting to wear real gold embroidery. I bet they even have pillows that match their formal yukata."
"I'd settle for a robe that wasn't patched on the elbows," someone else said.
Laughter rippled around the bath, but it was gentle—never bitter.
That was the thing about the branch family. We knew our place. But we still dreamed.
After a while, the chatter faded into lazy quiet. The water steamed around us, and I let my eyes drift shut for a moment, breathing deep.
Warmth. Laughter. The scent of cedar.
(End of chapter)
The clan isn't a nightmare, its home for countless people, and they can't be angry, its just not possible, being angry and filled with hate all the time won't work.
People always make the best of what they have, and the clan is rich, so everyone gets to enjoy life, even if it is a simple life with only the main family being able to enjoy wealth.