Chapter 12 — "I said I would. So I will"
"What?"
Disbelief flashed across Hyūga Masamune's pure white eyes. A storm of questions whipped through his mind: How could Ritsu possibly use the Gentle Step Twin Lion Fists? Was his talent so preternatural that one look taught him the move? Or — had Shunsuke been telling the truth earlier — had Ritsu secretly stolen and mastered a cache of Main-house secrets?
His composure wavered, but his body did not. The two lion-headed palms of compressed blue chakra slammed toward Ritsu's chest with unrelenting force — and met equal blue lion-heads curling about Ritsu's own hands.
Four palms collided. The impact detonated like a string of explosive tags; a shockwave tore outward, buffetting the watching crowd. Masamune staggered back seven or eight steps before finding his footing. The chakra lions that had crowned his hands dimmed and frayed; his hands shook uncontrollably, as if struck by a fit.
At once, Shunsuke and Taiga — his partners in the pincer attack — were driven back too, and worse off. They hadn't mastered the Twin Lion Fists the way Masamune thought they had; when Ritsu's perfected version struck them, Shunsuke's right metacarpal bones snapped in three places, his fingers mangled into grotesque angles, and Taiga's right forearm fractured. Both men sweated and bit their lips, but couldn't cry out — there were too many eyes watching. To make a sound now would be to lose more than pride; it would be to shatter the Main House's dignity.
"This move is pretty useful." Ritsu grinned, relaxed and unbothered, and didn't pursue the fleeing elders. He flexed his hands; the lion heads of chakra on his palms opened their jaws and roared with vivid life. He explained to the stunned Branch crowd:
"Compared to our basic Gentle Fist, the difference with the Twin Lion Fists is simple — you increase output to the hands and shape the chakra into form. That expands range and multiplies impact."
He continued, matter-of-fact: "There are two core difficulties. First, how to increase hand chakra output without injuring yourself — that depends on the precise tenketsu used; without precedent you'll hurt yourself. Second, how to stabilize both high-volume chakra output and a consistent form change. That requires exceptional chakra control."
Ritsu laid bare the technique's essentials in front of dozens of Branch families. Then he shook his head with genuine regret: "If our Branch jōnin could learn this, our survival on the battlefield would rise dramatically. But the Main House — those short-sighted fools — would rather watch us die than teach us their secrets."
His words rippled through the crowd. Lower-ranking shinobi felt none of it; the Main-house secrets were out of reach for now. But the jōnin among the Branches stirred. They had bled on the battlefield and lived to tell it; the idea that such techniques might lengthen their lives and save comrades struck a chord.
A change, subtle and dangerous, slid through people's minds. Yet the faction most loyal to the Main House could no longer restrain itself. They had watched the elders humiliated, struck down and wounded by this upstart. Enough patience had passed.
"Hyūga Ritsu! Traitor — die!"
A Branch jōnin's face went slate-gray, his voice thunderous. In the next instant he leapt forward like a hunting bird, closing on Hyūga Ritsu.
He wasn't alone. Seeing one man charge, a clutch of Main-house loyalist Branch members surged after him—ready to surround and strangle the upstart who'd dared raise his hand against the clan.
Behind them, Arima and Akiha's faces changed; they were about to join the fray. Takuma grabbed their sleeves. "Don't—remember, Ritsu can control the Caged Bird seal now."
Whispers ran through those who had seen Shunsuke's household earlier; the news spread in sharp, quick waves.
"Fall!" Ritsu barked, forming a hand seal.
The charging men froze, their faces crumpling as violent headaches ripped through them. In unison they collapsed, clutching skulls, rolling on the wet ground and uttering fractured, agonized screams.
Seizing the moment, Ritsu pointed at the twenty or so crippled attackers and called out in a clear voice: "You see this? Set your own feelings aside—do you still want your children's brows to be stamped with that cursed slave mark?"
His words struck many like a slap. Color drained from faces.
"Hyūga Ritsu!" Masamune, who had just steadied his shaking hands, snapped in fury. "How dare you blaspheme—"
"Shut up. One more peep and I'll kill you," Ritsu roared over his shoulder, his gaze savage.
Masamune, a man of stubborn pride, refused to bow in front of so many Branch members. But—
He lunged, and Ritsu answered with an explosive Eight Trigrams Vacuum Palm — a pressure blast of chakra and compacted air.
Masamune had expected a direct clash and braced himself. As a Main-house power he had not only mastered aggressive arts like the Twin Lion Fists but also the supposed unbeatable defense, Rotation — the hemispherical chakra barrier. He spun, releasing chakra from every tenketsu, forming the dome to shield himself.
The dome shattered. Masamune spat blood and was hurled backward.
"You think Rotation will stop my blast?" Ritsu scoffed. "Have you looked through your Byakugan at the difference between our chakra? The same technique in different hands is an entirely different thing."
Their earlier collision had already shown why Masamune faltered: after Ritsu stole the Shikotsumyaku, his Byakugan and chakra were not merely restored but dramatically enhanced. His chakra level had multiplied tenfold and its quality had improved—so identical moves in Ritsu's hands hit with far greater force.
"Besides," Ritsu said coldly, "you asked me if I intended to kill you. I said I would. So I will."
He struck again with blinding speed. The pressure blast slammed into Masamune's chest; the sickening sound of bones collapsing filled the courtyard as the elder's ribcage caved. He died in an instant.