Chapter 300: Self
"It's time to get up."
Now that Ryosuke had returned, the constant rain in the Land of Rain had finally stopped. Warm sunlight streamed through the windows, casting gentle beams across the quilt.
"Shh… don't bother me!"
A soft voice mumbled from beneath the blanket, tinged with irritation.
Ryosuke chuckled, unfazed. He sat up, leaned lazily against the headboard, and used his fingers to gently poke the girl's soft cheek.
Still half-asleep, Hinata instinctively waved a hand at the tickling sensation—only to miss and slap her own face with a loud smack.
"...Get lost!"
Wincing at the sting, Hinata shot up from the bed, glaring daggers at Ryosuke.
Fueled by post-sleep rage, she pushed with all her strength, trying to shove him off the bed.
Unfortunately for her... that was wishful thinking.
"You really think a rookie can knock me over? Me? The strongest Hyuga?"
Ryosuke smirked. "You better train harder if you want to win this game."
With that, he casually lifted her up with one arm, plopping her onto his lap to sit face-to-face.
"You never answered the question from last night," he said with a teasing grin. "So, how many kids are we planning to have after we get married?"
Looking at his wife—flustered, annoyed, but alive with expression—Ryosuke couldn't help but feel a sense of pride.
The frost that had once clung to her heart was finally starting to melt.
"Who wants to have your brats? I'm busy enough as it is!"
Hinata's flustered glare didn't match the panic swirling behind her eyes. Her gaze darted around the room, unable to meet his.
"Then I'll decide for us," Ryosuke leaned in, undeterred. "Every time we conquer a world, we'll have a baby."
"With our genes, each one will be the strongest in the universe. Clan management solved."
"Shut up!"
She pushed his face back before his lips could reach hers.
"If you keep spouting nonsense, I'll invoke my authority as clan head and ban you from coming home!"
Hinata puffed up in mock anger.
She hadn't been slacking in training. The Hyuga were known for their formidable physiques. Even at eighteen, she stood tall and confident, exuding an invisible aura of command honed by years in power.
Still, no matter how proud or intimidating she tried to be, compared to Ryosuke—who could reshape his body at will—she was still like a bunny baring her teeth.
She was about to continue scolding him when her expression suddenly froze.
She looked up at him—really looked—and found herself staring into a pair of eyes she hadn't seen this close in far too long.
Those eyes were full of warmth, full of patience. And something else she hadn't noticed in years: genuine affection.
"…Be kinder to yourself."
Ryosuke's voice was low, calm. He reached out, fingers trailing through her silky hair, brushing along the blue strands with practiced ease.
"People need to be selfish sometimes. You need to take time for yourself."
The room was quiet—no tension, no distractions. Just a tranquil warmth neither of them had felt in years.
The rest of the family had grown, chasing dreams, ambitions, power. But in this moment, with just the two of them, there was stillness. Peace.
"But I want to catch up to you."
Hinata leaned into his chest, her voice barely a whisper. "You're running too fast."
In truth, they were all being dragged forward by Ryosuke—her, the clan, the entire Hyuga legacy.
And as the one giving the orders, not following them, she paid the highest price.
Time. Rest. Herself.
"But you can't lose who you are."
He hugged her tightly.
"You're Hyuga Hinata. That doesn't mean just being the head of the clan."
"Honestly... I don't expect you to catch up to me. You can't."
"My hope has never been for you to match me—just to keep moving forward. To rise with the wind, not stagnate."
He sighed.
"And it's not just you. Since coming back, I've noticed something strange."
"Our clan... doesn't feel the same."
"In the Teigu World, people are still vibrant, still growing. But here, everyone's turned into machines."
He remembered the past. Clan meetings used to be full of noise—arguments, debate, passion.
Now? Silence.
The elders, once loud and opinionated, moved like tired cogs in a cold, unfeeling machine.
Three years ago, Ryosuke had estimated it would take nearly a decade to conquer and integrate the Teigu World. Its population was massive, its infrastructure chaotic, its spirit scattered.
But his people had overextended themselves—grinding through pain, pressure, and exhaustion to accomplish it all in just three years.
At a cost.
To save time, they'd even scrapped long-standing family traditions and festivals.
On the streets, in taverns, in training fields—no one talked about trivial things anymore. No jokes, no gossip. Only strategy. Efficiency.
It was admirable.
But it was also sad.
For development, they had sacrificed their humanity.
Now, the Hyuga clan moved like a hive mind—relentless, unyielding... empty.
Through the lens of Ryosuke's eyes, their spirits looked like still water. Murky, heavy.
They no longer lived for themselves. Everything was for the family.
But Ryosuke never intended it to be that way.
He didn't want them to grow arrogant or complacent from his presence. That was why he'd cultivated their strength, pushed them to move forward without him.
But he never asked them to burn themselves out.
The truth was—no matter how hard they worked, they could never catch up to him.
They weren't meant to.
He was always several steps ahead—he had to be. The pillar. The foundation.
And now… he understood why.
Somewhere deep within, memories of a past life stirred.
He finally remembered why he, once an ordinary man, had always been far beyond the ordinary.
They could no longer catch up to him.
In his previous life, Ryosuke had stood as the most powerful overlord in the universe. Though this world was of a lower tier, his vision, experience, and instincts remained intact.
Though his memories had slumbered throughout reincarnation, some things were impossible to erase—engraved deep within the soul. His rapid growth and unimaginable strength were built upon the foundation of millennia of struggle, battle, and triumph.
Now that those memories had begun to reawaken, his strength surged even further, filling in the boundaries once limited to this world.
And there were still truths he hadn't uncovered—secrets buried deep, still waiting to be explored.
How could Hinata ever catch up to that? One lifetime, a few short years—no, it wasn't possible. And besides, he wasn't staying still for them to catch up.
"You know," Ryosuke murmured, fingers running gently through her blue silk hair, "I haven't used my full strength in a long time."
"Even at half power, no one's ever forced me to go all out."
"I'm getting stronger. Every day. No one can keep up with my growth."
"Even if someone surpasses me for a while because of age or circumstance... I'll still catch up. Then I'll surpass them."
"I was born powerful. It's like I was destined never to be ordinary."
Arrogant words, perhaps. But Hinata didn't flinch.
To her, it didn't sound arrogant at all. It was simply the truth.
Everyone who had watched Ryosuke's rise in the Hyuga clan would say the same. He was a force of nature. An unfathomable existence. No one truly knew his limits—not even his own kin.
Ryosuke was a bottomless well. A mystery since childhood. Even when he was ignorant of his own greatness, the clan head—his own father—had seen the truth.
He was the future.
"I'm only saying all this so you understand something," he continued. "People push themselves forward because of dreams, goals... and love."
"But when those dreams become chores… when your passions turn into obligations… it kills the joy."
"Right now, things might still seem fine. But one day, when our people's nerves finally snap from all the pressure... this clan might collapse in a terrifying way."
"When they begin to hate their dreams, resent this forced 'destiny,' their hearts will rot. They'll give up. They'll grow stagnant. Or worse… regress."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle.
Even a system as strict and merit-based as theirs couldn't prevent that kind of collapse. If the clan's growth outpaced its people's limits, even wealth, power, or glory wouldn't be enough.
Why fight to climb when there's no joy at the top? Why not just quit early and enjoy what you can?
Ryosuke could already picture that bleak future—clansmen falling apart one by one. And once word of that spread beyond their walls… the Hyuga's momentum would break.
"I understand," Hinata said softly. "I'll slow things down. Appropriately."
Last night, for the first time in a long while, she hadn't fallen asleep slumped over paperwork on a cold desk.
Instead, she had dozed off in the arms of the man she loved.
And now, in the gentle morning light, she lay comfortably in bed. No guilt, no tension. Just peace.
A burden she hadn't even realized she carried felt like it had finally lifted.
She understood now—the kind of spiritual nourishment Ryosuke had been talking about.
Eyes closed, resting on his chest, with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat in her ear and his fingers gently massaging her neck—she let herself breathe. For the first time in years, she let go of everything.
She wasn't a clan head right now.
She was just his wife.
And it felt… warm. Too warm. Her body relaxed so much it nearly slipped back into sleep.
"But there's one more important matter."
Ryosuke suddenly sat upright, looking at her with a rare seriousness.
"…What now?" Hinata groaned groggily, lifting her head from his chest.
"You really need to train harder. Not for the clan. But for our future baby."
"…Excuse me?"
"I'm just too strong," he said with a straight face. "If you don't improve your strength, you might not survive the intensity of our marital bliss."
Before he could finish, he noticed her hand moving ominously in front of his face.
And yes, there was chakra building in her palm.
The Hyuga's famed soft fist technique was no joke.
---
"Yomutsu is a mystical technique that weaves space itself, far beyond conventional abilities."
Ryosuke sat cross-legged, focused, his eyes glowing faintly as spatial energies twisted around him.
"This technique allows the caster to shift everything within a certain range into a space of their own design. But that world must be crafted beforehand."
"A person's soul can carry six distinct alternate dimensions—one main world and five auxiliary realms…"
After returning home, Ryosuke didn't rush off to new adventures or pursue people from other dimensions.
The Hyuga clan still had work to do to fully consolidate their hold on the Teigu World. And he himself had matters to address—rescuing their ancestors, preparing for marriage.
No need to hurry. For once, it was time to slow down.
Even if a door to another world opened before him now, he'd hold off. Gain permission. Wait for the right moment.
"My inner realm is currently divided into the Lava Prison, the Frozen Mountains, the Sulfuric Sea, the Endless Desert, and the Supergravity Field."
"It's troublesome to create environments from nothing. So instead, I split them directly from the real world and refined them into my space."
Kaguya Ōtsutsuki sat nearby, watching him in silence. Occasionally, she would offer insight, drawing on her own millennia of experience.
At their level, creation from nothing wasn't impossible.
Changing weather, warping terrain—these were simple.
She could stop the eternal rain in the Land of Rain, or turn the Land of Wind into a lush paradise.
But those feats came at a steep energy cost.
She preferred Ryosuke's approach: splitting and modifying real-world terrain into usable, pocket dimensions.
"It just takes a little imagination," she had told him.
But Ryosuke shook his head.
"If it's mine, I want to build it myself. It'll make the connection deeper, the control smoother."
Besides, for him, this wasn't difficult.
Once, he could only use illusions to recreate what he'd seen or heard.
Later, his power grew—until even imagined scenes, born only in his mind, could be projected in perfect detail.
Now? He had ascended beyond the Six Paths.
Using the five elements and yin-yang release, he could forge entire worlds from nothing.
And with Boros's cosmic knowledge from countless galaxies etched into his mind, his realm of possibility had become infinite.