"Hakke Rokujūyon Shō (Eight Trigrams Sixty-Four Palms)!"
Hyuga Neji's shout rang across the floor.
Chakra surged through his body; an Eight Trigrams diagram flashed under his feet as he burst in on Hinata.
The assault began.
"Hakke Nijū Shō (Eight Trigrams Two Palms)!"
"Shi Shō (Four Palms)!"
"Hachi Shō (Eight Palms)!"
"Jūroku Shō (Sixteen Palms)!"
"Sanjūni Shō (Thirty-Two Palms)!"
His hands blurred to afterimages, every palm strike spearing for Hinata's tenketsu. He sealed every route she could use to slip away.
Up in the stands, Hyuga Hiashi clenched the rail with both hands. With Hinata's level—there was no way she could block this head-on.
Yet in the very heart of the storm, Hinata didn't fall as anyone expected.
Her focus tightened to a point. The faint warmth pulsing from the chakra ear studs—and that steady voice—were her only anchors.
"Half-step left rotation. Drop the shoulder to vent force."
Neji's twin palms crashed in—Hinata rotated half a step to the left, both shoulders sinking. His palms landed on her shoulder, real enough, but the sealing force bled off, unwound by a spiraling softness.
"Retreat one step. Round-rise guard."
Four palms scythed for her base. Hinata slid a precise step back; her right knee rose and caught two of them, while the other two skimmed past as her center pulled away.
"Hachi Shō (Eight Palms) to the centerline—draw circles with both hands."
As the blows grew denser, Hinata stopped pure evasion. Her hands traced tight arcs before her chest, adhering to Neji's flowing strikes—leading them aside, dissolving their power.
Neji's unease mounted.
Every palm landed on its mark—
—and every palm felt like striking a void, its strength siphoned by a Gentle Fist he'd never seen. Hinata's body became a vortex, swallowing his strikes and returning nothing.
Impossible.
Hyuga Gentle Fist prized directness and severity—one hit to seal the points. This "soft beats hard, borrow and redirect" wasn't Hyuga's canon at all—
"Rokujūyon Shō!"
With a final cry, Neji poured everything into his palms and unleashed his fiercest volley.
Sixty-four palm shadows hammered Hinata from all angles at once.
Dull thuds rolled through the arena.
Hinata's body shuddered; blood touched the corner of her lips—yet she still stood.
Neji's Sixty-Four Palms were done.
He stood heaving, sweat beading his brow—this was his trump, a heavy drain. No one, he believed, could take a full set and stay upright.
But Hinata stood.
Not only stood—her pale eyes shone brighter than before.
And then, the calm voice again, at her ear:
"Now."
His form spent; old power gone, new power not yet born—
—those fractional seconds between.
Hinata moved.
She stopped defending. Chakra roared from her core and flooded both hands.
Her hands framed a strange seal before her chest. Vast blue chakra gathered, compressed—took shape.
The blue mass molded into twin lion heads of high-density chakra.
The lions opened their eyes and roared in silence.
On the floor, Neji stared at the clearly formed chakra lions blooming from Hinata's hands—his mind went blank. Confidence, anger, killing intent—all washed away, leaving only raw, perfect shock.
He blurted out:
"Jūho Sōshiken (Gentle Step Twin Lion Fists)?! Impossible! That's the Main House's secret S-rank taijutsu! How could you—?!"
In the VIP seats—
Hyuga Hiashi shot to his feet, hands trembling with agitation, face a storm of disbelief and joy.
Gentle Step Twin Lion Fists.
A Main House secret even he had never fully mastered—yet his daughter had just called it forth in battle.
The arena fell dead silent.
Every gaze fixed on those two blue chakra lions.
On the floor, tears blurred Hinata's sight—release, proof, and elation all at once—but her voice was steady.
"I… keep my word! This is… my nindō—I won't run anymore!"
She seized the instant Shinju had marked for her and stamped forward.
Both hands thrust.
"Jūho Sōshiken (Gentle Step Twin Lion Fists)!"
The twin lions launched with a crashing surge, crossed the gap, and slammed into Neji's chest.
Neji convulsed.
A massive force surged into him, ripping through his network and organs.
His white shirt exploded at the chest.
Blood fountained from his mouth and scattered in the air.
He flew backward more than ten meters and cratered into the rear wall, a man-shaped dent splaying cracks like a spiderweb.
He slid down and hit the floor. His eyes rolled white—unconscious.
One strike.
The Hyuga "genius" felled by the one he most despised—felled by the Main House secret he yearned to master.
Gekkō Hayate hesitated, then hurried in to check. He raised his hand and declared:
"Winner—Hyuga Hinata!"
For a heartbeat the arena held its breath—then cheers and applause burst like thunder.
Hinata stood in the center as the noise washed over her. Her legs went weak—she could barely stand. She'd won. She really had. Tears ran freely.
She looked up at the VIPs.
Shinju was smiling at her, giving a small nod.
She knew it—this was thanks to him. Without his help, she wouldn't have grown this quickly, wouldn't have reached this height. Her gratitude welled up from the heart.
In the VIP seats—
Hyuga Hiashi strode to the Namikaze box, straightened his robe, and bowed ninety degrees to the seated Shinju.
"Shinju-sama—words can't repay this debt."
He knew: his daughter's metamorphosis—all of it—came from this boy. The Hyuga's future would change because of him.
Shinju accepted the bow with calm. "No need for formality, Clan Head Hiashi. I only did what I should. Hinata's potential goes far beyond this."
He said it—and let his gaze drift past the crowd to the next fighter stepping up:
A sand shinobi with a giant gourd on his back.
Gaara.
(End of Chapter)
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