Noon.
Unkawa Hyūga walked back toward the Hyūga Clan compound from Konoha Hospital, glancing down at his bandaged hand.
Thanks to the increasingly potent regenerative abilities of this body, the wound had already healed completely during the walk there.
He had only reopened it to avoid attracting unnecessary attention.
Even so, the medical-nin had marveled at how rapidly it healed, remarking that such strong regenerative ability was rare.
Of course, that wasn't the only reason he'd done it.
"..."
While lost in thought, Unkawa arrived outside a training ground and lifted his gaze—only to see the girl at the center of attention, surrounded by several deferential members of the branch family.
Hyūga Aoi, daughter of a main family elder.
Her long black hair shimmered like ink in the sunlight. The healthy, rosy cheeks of a sixteen-year-old still retained traces of baby fat, but her pale white eyes were as sharp as frosted blades.
"Get out of my sight."
She kicked away a branch family member kneeling before her without hesitation. The man grunted in pain but dared not show any hint of resistance—he didn't even allow himself to feel displeased.
"Trash," Aoi spat coldly, sweeping her eyes across the rest of the group. Her tone was filled with disdain. "Useless, all of you! Not a single one has the guts to lift a hand against me? And Father actually sent you lot to protect me?"
The branch members bowed their heads lower, expressions submissive and silent. No one dared to object.
After all, Aoi was the elder's only daughter. Spoiled since birth, her temperament had grown arrogant and willful.
Not that she was unique—many main family children were the same.
What made her different was her thirst for combat and obsession with strength. She constantly talked about leaving the village to fight on the battlefield.
This time, she had been denied permission again, and was in a foul mood because of it. Now she was venting her frustration on her so-called "guards," demanding they go all out in a sparring match.
But if they really did go all out and accidentally hurt her, the consequences would be unbearable.
Even a stray blow, even a misstep that seemed like overstepping, could trigger the cursed seal carved into their souls—a torment worse than death.
Forget enduring some humiliation and verbal abuse.
If Aoi demanded it, they would kneel and bark like dogs, as long as it spared them that soul-wrenching agony.
"…Wait a second," Aoi suddenly frowned. "We're missing someone, aren't we?"
The branch members exchanged brief glances. Everyone immediately knew who she was talking about.
"Lady Aoi," one of them finally spoke. It was the same man who had blocked Unkawa from entering earlier that morning. "It's—"
"Lady Aoi, I'm here," a calm voice interrupted him.
The speaker's sudden arrival made the man flinch. A dull ache pulsed in his bruised abdomen again as he instinctively straightened.
Aoi turned, her expression darkening as she saw the boy approaching.
"So it's you, you worthless runt."
Unkawa ignored the insult. He raised his bandaged hand and bowed slightly.
"Apologies, Lady Aoi. I injured my hand earlier. I may not be able to spar today…"
Whoosh!
A sudden burst of wind pierced the air. Unkawa instinctively tilted his head to the side.
A fist narrowly missed his ear, the blow sharp enough to lift his hair from the nape of his neck.
When he looked up, he was met with a pair of icy, emotionless white eyes.
"Enough excuses," Aoi said coldly. "Let me see if you've improved at all, you piece of trash."
Without waiting, her punch retracted and transitioned into a palm strike aimed at his chest.
But Unkawa's body moved like drifting leaves in the wind—silent, weightless, and untouchable. He evaded the strike effortlessly.
A flicker of surprise crossed Aoi's face.
Veins bulged around her eyes as she activated the Byakugan fully and shifted into the true opening stance of the Gentle Fist.
In a blur, her right hand turned into a streaking shadow, three fingers together aiming for his left shoulder.
"…Tsk." Watching this unfold, Unkawa sighed inwardly.
So you want to do this the hard way.
Very well, then.
He slowly closed his eyes.
Instantly, he slipped back into that deep concentration—where all five senses were sealed off, and only his mental perception remained.
Sight. Sound. Smell. Taste. Touch. Gone.
Bang!
His body twisted and bent backward as Aoi's fingertips narrowly missed his nose, slamming into the wooden post behind him. Splinters burst in all directions, the scent of pine resin strong in the air.
Aoi's punches and palm strikes rained down swiftly—but to Unkawa, they felt sluggish.
Blood surged through his veins like molten magma, empowering his body to move as quickly as his mind.
He was the only figure moving at normal speed in a world stretched to slow motion.
There…
Every time she pivoted, Aoi left her side exposed.
Spotting an opening, Unkawa's hand whipped forward like a fish through water. He seized her wrist, twisted her arm, and pressed with practiced precision.
Crack! Crack!
One sound for dislocation. The other, for resetting it.
Flawless execution—so fast she didn't even get the chance to scream.
Before she could react, Unkawa moved again.
His body seemed to quiver slightly from head to toe, sending force through his spine, channeling it into his arm like a coiled whip.
BOOM!
It sounded like a bamboo rod suddenly snapping under tension, followed by a spray of white mist exploding in the air.
The strike slammed into Aoi's forearm as she tried to guard herself. She stumbled backward uncontrollably, feet dragging, on the verge of collapsing in disgrace.
That wouldn't do.
Unkawa sighed, stepped forward, and grabbed her collar.
With one strong tug, he yanked her toward him.
Her body crashed into his chest, the scent of orange blossoms and sweat mingling in the air. Her frantic heartbeat thudded through their clothes.
"Had your fun, Lady Aoi?"
He opened his eyes, gazing into her trembling pupils. His voice was low, sharp, and calm:
"If you really want to go to war, then at the very least, understand this—"
"Out there, on blood-soaked soil, in this merciless clan… the only reason you're still alive is because others have died in your place."
"To live… means to be worthy of that sacrifice."
"And you… aren't worthy."
With that, he let go of her collar and pushed her away.
Ignoring the stunned, fearful, and awestruck gazes around him, Unkawa gave her a small bow—and turned to leave.
His face was composed. His footsteps light and steady.
And the moment he stepped outside the training ground—
[Ding!]
[Your deception has been judged as: "False Affection" and "Flirtatious Manipulation." Hyūga Aoi has experienced significant emotional turbulence—result: Self-Doubt. You've gained 300 Sincerity Points.]
"…Tch. That's defamation," Unkawa muttered under his breath, the corner of his mouth twitching.
"Deceiving a woman? I would never."
Joke delivered, he tilted his head—just in time to spot a familiar young face peeking out from a nearby residence.
The boy's expression was filled with fury and defiance.
Hyūga Neji.
"Oh?" Unkawa narrowed his eyes. "Look who it is…"