With introductions out of the way, we quickly gathered together by a fallen tree, where I could help unblock their tenketsu.
None could compare to the Hyūga Clan when it came to knowledge about those, not even Tsunade. After all, we could see them, and we had studied them for centuries.
"You did well Koji, though it was reckless to charge in without gathering information." I slowly began to discuss our fight.
"Heh, but didn't you do the same?" he replied with a grin.
"Well, I had some prior knowledge about them, but you are right, I too acted recklessly, so I won't blame you for it." I could only admit that he was right.
"But the two of you, what do you have to say in defence of your defeat?"
Arata's jaw tightened, and I could see the frustration simmering just beneath his calm exterior.
He was much older than us, and having been beaten by us didn't sit well with him.
"I underestimated you," he said, his voice a low, rumbling growl. "Didn't expect you to ambush us… and I didn't attempt to team up with Hoshino-san, allowing myself to get dragged into a taijutsu match against a Hyūga."
I gave a short nod; he clearly understood what he had done wrong. Which, honestly, wasn't much of a surprise; he was a Tokubetsu Jōnin and had plenty of experience.
Which is why he shouldn't have made such a mistake. Haruto was an ally, and he should have instantly sought to team up with him. Even I knew that, and I wasn't part of the normal shinobi forces of Konoha.
Still, he did well enough given his disadvantage, and honestly, even together they wouldn't have been my match, so his loss was expected.
Haruto gave a sharp exhale, his dark eyes flicking between me and Arata as if weighing his next words carefully.
"I relied too much on my defensive advantage," he admitted. "I should have tried to break the assault and join up with Hagane-san; we are clearly both ninjutsu specialists, so engaging you two one-on-one like that was a mistake."
I nodded slowly, my pale eyes never leaving Haruto's. It was good that he realized his mistake so quickly, but recognizing a flaw and correcting it were two very different things.
"Exactly," I replied, my tone cool but not unkind. "Both of you should have moved to support each other the moment the attack began. Splitting your forces against an unknown enemy is a death sentence in a real battle."
"But more than that," I continued. "You shouldn't have been taken by surprise, both Koji and I did little to hide ourselves, and while we are indeed inside the Village, you should be careful when entering a deserted area where a stranger has asked you to meet them."
Honestly, that was their biggest mistake; their loss was fine, but not being aware of their surroundings was deadly. I guess it was because they were inside the village, and they naturally felt safe in here.
Much like I did within the walls of the Hyūga Clan compound. But there was a big difference between a walled and guarded clan compound and a forested training ground.
Both Haruto and Arata shifted uncomfortably at my words, the weight of their mistake settling over them like a heavy fog. I could see the tension in their shoulders, the slight tightening of their jaws as they absorbed the criticism.
They were both experienced shinobi, older and likely more seasoned than I was in terms of pure battlefield experience, but even veterans could become complacent in familiar surroundings.
"Complacency kills," I continued. "You're both strong, skilled, and clearly capable, but if you let your guard down, if you assume you're safe just because you're within our walls, or you have sensors on your team, we could all die without knowing how."
"Understood," Haruto said at last, his voice rough but steady. "It won't happen again."
"Good," I said, letting my tone soften slightly as I stepped back from them. "Then let's consider this a lesson learned. We'll need to be sharp out there. The enemy won't give us second chances."
I felt Koji's sharp, golden-brown eyes on me, his lips curving into a faint, wolfish grin as he leaned back against the fallen tree.
"You're tough, Yuki," he said, his tone light but laced with a hint of genuine respect. "I think we just might get back alive."
"I will do my very best to lead us all to success in our mission," I replied, my tone softer. So, let's get to know one another better."
That had been my goal, and while fighting was a great way to get to know one another, talking was also important.
So, with the fighting out of the way, we instead started to talk about the fight, what could have been done differently, and what Jutsu could have been used if given the chance.
It was very much a fight of words now. Everyone trying to come up with a counter to the others' moves.
Almost like a Pokémon battle. You call a jutsu, and I call a counter until we run into a dead end. It was fun in its own way. And allowed us to at least know what the others thought themselves capable of.
Koji and I were also able to absorb a bit of wisdom from the two more experienced shinobi. After all, while I might have been watching them for a while, that didn't mean I truly understood them.
I knew I had much to learn, and learn it I would.
-----
The Hyūga Clan's main hall was quiet. The polished wooden floors gleamed in the soft, filtered light that streamed in through the narrow, paper-covered windows. The air was cool and still, carrying the faint, calming scent of incense from the small, meticulously tended shrine in the corner of the room.
Hiashi Hyūga knelt in formal seiza, his back straight and his hands resting lightly on his knees, his sharp, pale eyes focused on the Go board before him.
Tatsuo Hyūga, the current clan head, sat across from him, his broad shoulders square and his pale eyes unblinking. He studied his eldest son in silence.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke, the quiet between them broken only by the soft, sound of a wind chime coming from outside.
Finally, Tatsuo broke the silence, his deep, measured voice carrying a weight of authority that even Hiashi, his heir, could not ignore.
"She will be leaving tomorrow," he said, his tone calm but firm. "I have already given the necessary orders. Her team is prepared, and her mission is set."
Hiashi was just about to make his next move when he stopped at his father's words. And finally, he let out a sigh he had been holding for days. "I'm worried… the situation is so dangerous, and she is going without anyone else from the clan."
Tatsuo gave a slight nod as he studied his son's tense, rigid form.
"You are not wrong to worry," he replied, "Her talent is unseen in generations. In many ways, she is the clan's treasure, and there are those who would rather her stay at home, for her to focus fully on just being your wife."
He paused. "But, that wouldn't be right. The best for the clan as a whole is for her to be as strong as possible. If she could reach the level of a Clan Lord, then within Konoha, the clan will stand much stronger in the future, and your future will also be far easier."
"I understand that, Father," Hiashi said, his voice quiet but firm, the faintest edge of frustration slipping into his tone. "I understand that she is strong, more so than even me, but still I worry."
"Nothing wrong with worrying about your wife, my son, as long as you remember what is important." His father cautioned him.
"The clan is the most important thing," Hiashi repeated a line he had heard so many times he was starting to believe it fully.
Tatsuo gave a slow, approving nod, his sharp, pale eyes never leaving his son's tense, rigid form.
"Good," he said, his deep, measured voice carrying a weight of finality. "Never forget that. The clan must always come first. Our strength, our unity, our survival. That is the foundation upon which our future is built."
Hiashi let out a slow, steady breath, his pale eyes flicking back down to the Go board between them, the smooth, polished stones scattered across its surface like the carefully arranged pieces of a much larger, much deadlier game.
"But that doesn't mean you can ignore the bonds you have formed," Tatsuo continued, his tone softening just a fraction, his sharp, angular features relaxing into a slightly less severe expression. "Yuki is not just a tool, not just a pawn to be used for the clan's benefit. She is your future wife, and perhaps more importantly, your equal."
Hiashi's jaw tightened slightly at his father's words, a faint, almost imperceptible flicker of something deeper passing through his eyes as he absorbed the unexpected sentiment.
"She is strong, yes," Tatsuo continued. "Stronger than you in some ways. But that does not make you weak. I want you to remember that her mission is to buy you time. Even now, she is fulfilling her duty as a branch member, protecting you, so once the war is over, pay her back.
Honestly, Tatsuo was glad to see the bond between Hiashi and Yuki blooming like that. He was well aware that love in marriages between main family members was rare. He held little love for his own wife back when she was alive.
It wasn't until she passed away that he truly started to notice all the little things she did for him, the way she almost seemed to make him whole.
He was happy that his own son wouldn't go through with that.
Still, he felt that he had failed his wife; both of the sons she bore him were talented, both would have done well for the clan, yet they were born as twins.
He had been forced to apply the seal of his own son, something no father wanted to do. Ahh, how he wished Hizashi shared the same kind of understanding for his positions as young Yuki did.
So talented, yet never once had anyone detected the slightest bit of dissatisfaction about the seal on her forehead.
Something so rare in the more talented people of the branch. Yet she was the perfect mascot, someone who understood what the seal truly meant.
Protection.
Just as those sealed served to protect the main family, the branch family was protected by the seal.
He had no doubt that under Hiashi and her, the clan would thrive; greatness was in the next generation, and a golden age awaited them as long as they could get through this war.
Tatsuo placed his next Go piece with a sharp, deliberate click, the small, polished stone settling into its place on the smooth, wooden board with a soft, satisfying sound.
Everything depended on this cursed war ending soon.