Thanks to Hanako's patient coaxing, Satoru and Neji finally managed to escape the tearful clutches of little Hinata.
Unlike Satoru—who often struggled to deal with children—Neji actually found his lively little cousin quite endearing. Having such a spirited younger sister-like figure didn't feel like a bother to him at all.
After sharing lunch with Satoru, Neji rested for a bit in his older cousin's room. By the time afternoon came around, fully recharged, he was summoned to the clan's training hall by Hyuga Keisuke.
When Neji arrived, Satoru was already there—and judging from the state of the place, he'd clearly been training for quite some time.
Two of Satoru's personal guards were lying exhausted at the edge of the tatami floor, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath.
Because of that morning's funeral, Satoru hadn't trained with his usual team, so for today's taijutsu practice, his guards had stepped in as his sparring partners.
Those guards—Hyuga Mio, Hyuga Kazutaka, and Hyuga Keisuke, who'd just returned with Neji—had all been serving as Satoru's protectors for the past two years. The arrangement had never changed.
Keisuke needed to conserve his stamina in case of emergencies, which left Mio and Kazutaka to act as Satoru's usual training partners.
But at this point… neither of them could truly push him anymore.
As Neji stepped into the dojo, he found Mio and Kazutaka collapsed against the wall, their practice uniforms soaked through.
Meanwhile, Satoru stood calmly at the center of the floor, his breathing even, his posture composed. From the look of it, he was reviewing their earlier match, patiently pointing out their mistakes.
That sight burned itself into Neji's young mind.
He had always known his older cousin was strong—but seeing it with his own eyes like this was something else entirely.
Neji had heard of Mio and Kazutaka's skill before. Within the Hyuga clan, both were considered accomplished fighters. Yet they had been so thoroughly outmatched that they could barely stand. The realization made Satoru seem even more formidable in Neji's eyes.
"Neji, you're here."
Satoru's sharp eyes caught sight of him immediately. Seeing his younger cousin already changed into training attire, standing tall and ready, Satoru nodded in satisfaction.
"Let's see how much you've improved," he said, motioning for Neji to step forward.
The two guards respectfully withdrew to the side, leaving the floor clear.
Neji walked into the center, face serious.
He was still just a child—but a born shinobi nonetheless. Even with countless thoughts swirling in his mind, once he stood before Satoru, all distractions vanished. His heart grew still, his gaze steady, his spirit unwavering.
"Good eyes," Satoru said approvingly. "And a solid stance too… not bad. If you're ready—come at me."
"Haah!!"
With a sharp cry, Neji lunged forward.
He hadn't awakened his Byakugan yet, and though he had grasped the form of Gentle Fist, he still lacked the essence.
For children his age, such sparring sessions were more about gauging reaction speed, familiarity with technique, the smoothness of their transitions—and most importantly, their will to fight.
Those qualities had to be cultivated young. Whether someone was cut out to be a shinobi could often be seen even in childhood.
The ones who endured hardship tended to grow into great ninja. Those who gave up easily would become cannon fodder—or worse, deserters.
With a deft sweep of his arm, Satoru redirected Neji's palm strike. He didn't counterattack, only shifted back slightly, deliberately exposing a small opening.
Despite his age, Neji instantly caught it. He sprang forward, pressing the advantage with a flurry of rapid palm thrusts. Though every strike was calmly deflected, he refused to retreat, remembering his father's teaching—never give up the initiative.
The two figures darted across the dojo in a flurry of motion. Satoru blocked and sidestepped, maintaining a constant rhythm. Within a few dozen exchanges, they'd circled the entire training floor and returned to their starting position.
To an uninformed observer, it might have looked like Satoru was being pushed back—but in truth, the entire rhythm of the match was under his control from start to finish.
Not a single one of Neji's attacks had so much as brushed his sleeve.
Still, Satoru didn't strike back. He let the boy unleash everything he had, savoring the rhythm of battle, freely expressing the techniques he'd worked so hard to learn.
In this "spar," it was Satoru who was the real training partner.
Their situation now mirrored the way Satoru himself had once trained under his father, Hyuga Hiashi. The difference in strength between him and Neji was vast. If Satoru attacked seriously even once, Neji wouldn't be able to react—ending the match immediately and defeating the point of practice.
"Wow… so strong…"
Outside the dojo's sliding doors, little Hinata—having slipped away from her mother's watchful eyes—was peeking through a narrow gap.
She didn't really understand what "taijutsu" meant, but watching Neji's agile movements and steady strikes filled her with wide-eyed amazement.
Most of the children she knew were clumsy and still couldn't even keep their noses clean. None of them could move like that.
The match didn't last long. Neji, still too young to convert chakra into stamina, quickly grew winded. His movements slowed, his breathing grew ragged—so Satoru ended the bout at just the right time.
He cast a casual glance toward the doorway—he'd noticed Hinata's presence long ago—but didn't chase her off. Instead, he turned back to Neji, his tone patient as he began pointing out his flaws.
Neji's offensive flow was decent, but he was overeager. He focused too much on his own attacks, neglecting defense and failing to track his opponent's movements.
Still, those were things that could only be refined through continuous practice.
A few years from now, once Neji's body matured and his chakra control improved, Satoru would start counterattacking during their spars. That would force Neji to adapt and correct his weaknesses. For now, though, it was better to let him enjoy the thrill and satisfaction of attacking freely.
Training in the dojo continued—but the focus shifted. This time, Satoru sparred with Keisuke.
And when they began, Hinata's jaw practically dropped.
The calm, composed Satoru from before was gone—replaced by someone fierce, sharp, and utterly overwhelming. The speed of their movements was so fast that Hinata's young eyes couldn't even follow.
Neji, too, was stunned.
It was the first time he'd seen Satoru fight seriously—and the sheer power of it left him breathless. The crushing pressure, the unshakable confidence, the elegance in every motion… all of it etched itself deep into his heart.
"So this is… Big Brother Satoru's true strength…"
"He's… incredible…"
Inside the dojo, the air whipped and roared with each exchange.
Kneeling at the edge of the tatami, fists clenched tight, Neji's eyes blazed with awe and determination.
From that moment on, he had a goal.
He wanted to grow strong enough—strong enough to stand beside the person he admired most in the world.
The one he longed to reach—Hyuga Satoru.
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