Neji rolled up his sleeves, set his feet front and back, lowered his center of gravity slightly, and the veins around his pupils bulged out.
Clearly, he'd entered a combat state.
"Come on—let's spar!"
Kiyonari rotated his shoulders. His joints cracked sharply as he, too, assumed the opening stance of Gentle Fist and shot back without backing down.
"You're done for—I'm telling you right now!"
Before the words even finished, Neji launched first. His body sprang forward, kicking up a shallow pit in the dirt. His right palm shot straight for a vital point on Kiyonari's chest, the palm wind vicious—the piercing whistle of the air arriving a beat later.
The strike looked simple, but it was extremely dangerous. The chest was one of the most critical weak points on the human body. Under Gentle Fist, the chest could be even more fatal than the head.
Kiyonari's pupils tightened. He dodged left on instinct, his reaction speed decent enough that he narrowly avoided the hit.
But Neji's offense wasn't going to stop there. In the next instant, the pressure came like a tide—endless and continuous.
The moment the first palm missed, Neji's left palm came slicing in from a bizarre angle toward Kiyonari's ribs, while his right palm drew back, using his body to obscure the line.
Can't see it! Bullying me because I haven't awakened the Byakugan, huh?!
Smack!
Kiyonari threw out a hurried palm. Their hands collided in midair with a crisp slap—yet in the very next second, Kiyonari felt a sting shoot up from the point of contact.
This bastard—
Neji's chakra had instantly pierced through the chakra Kiyonari had layered over his palm, slipping along a tenketsu into his meridians. Even with only a brief touch, Kiyonari's palm went numb, starting to disobey him.
Then, Neji's right palm—clearly charged and ready—didn't even swing. Instead, he twisted his waist and hips and snapped his right leg out like a steel whip, sweeping sideways.
A Leaf Whirlwind?
Confirmed!
Kiyonari hurriedly retreated to open distance. Neji saw through him immediately, his fingers stabbing out in rapid succession, each strike precisely targeting tenketsu Kiyonari left exposed outside his guard.
Kiyonari scrambled to block and parry, fine sweat beading across his forehead.
No good—gotta nail him somehow!
Kiyonari steeled himself and abandoned defense, clenching his right fist and blasting it toward Neji's face. But the punch hadn't even been thrown—his muscles had only just begun to tense when Neji's Byakugan read it perfectly.
Neji dodged ahead of time and, in the same motion, lightly tapped Kiyonari's arm as it came forward.
Tss!
Pre-fire "shot," huh?! You're not even pretending anymore!
Kiyonari gritted his teeth and forced chakra through the sealed tenketsu, but the moment he lost focus, Neji's strike arrived—one palm printed onto Kiyonari's shoulder, the force so heavy it shoved him back three or four steps, nearly sending him sprawling.
"You've regressed way too much," Neji frowned.
Panting, Kiyonari shook his numb right arm. This time he decided to go on the offensive.
Forget Gentle Fist or hard fist—use everything in one messy flood. He tried to overwhelm Neji with fast, chaotic attacks, drag Neji down to his level, then beat him with his "rich" experience.
Kiyonari's strikes poured down like a storm, but Neji slipped through them effortlessly, occasionally raising a hand to block. Every movement was perfectly timed—no waste, not even a fraction.
"You're faster, but abandoning control of the fight's rhythm is a stupid choice," Neji said flatly.
As soon as he spoke, he tapped his toe, pulled back for distance, then suddenly appeared at Kiyonari's side as if using Body Flicker.
Smack-smack-smack-smack!
Four crisp hits sounded almost simultaneously. Kiyonari felt the chakra flow in his chest, abdomen, and waist twist into chaos. His movements stuttered, even his breathing growing difficult.
No—too many tenketsu are sealed—
Kiyonari clenched his teeth and forced what chakra he had left to move. Under enormous pressure, he actually broke open some of the sealed points and restored partial flow.
"Your willpower isn't bad."
A flicker of praise appeared in Neji's eyes, but his hands never slowed. He pressed in, his right hand thrusting straight for Kiyonari's throat.
Kiyonari barely tilted his head to avoid it, but Neji's left palm was already stamped onto his chest. The blow was brutally heavy—no Gentle Fist needed—and Kiyonari's chest tightened as he was sent flying backward.
Bang!
Kiyonari's back slammed into a wooden training post with a dull thud, then he slid down it to the ground, gasping in huge gulps.
Multiple tenketsu were sealed, chakra in disarray, stamina burned out—he'd completely lost the ability to fight. Yet right before he collapsed fully, a look of relief spread across his face.
"Sorry I couldn't make Neji-sama go all-out,"
Kiyonari said weakly, then fell flat, kicking up a cloud of dust.
"Kiyonari-kun!"
Hinata cried out. She instinctively stepped forward to help him up—
But Kiyonari struggled to raise a trembling palm toward her, stopping her.
"D-Don't… don't come… y-you can't… win…"
Hinata halted, her eyes reddening slightly. Of course she knew Kiyonari had given everything he had—but in front of Neji, that effort still wasn't enough.
"Honestly… this isn't a movie theater."
Neji looked down at Kiyonari lying on the ground and sighed, his expression holding both helplessness and disappointment.
"Only three exchanges. You really have been slacking lately. Two months ago, right after you learned Gentle Fist, you could at least last three exchanges with me. But it's fine—there's plenty of time."
Neji's tone softened a little. He turned, his gaze landing on Hinata, who had been watching the whole time.
"You're next, Hinata."
He pointed at her and assumed the opening stance again.
Hinata's eyes sharpened. She walked toward him.
1 day later—
"Can't do it anymore~"
After another full day of training, Hyuga Kiyonari lay limp on his bed, limbs heavy as if filled with lead, his back and waist aching.
Don't get the wrong idea—he wasn't "kidney-deficient." It was from training. Whether hard fist or Gentle Fist, any taijutsu relies on core power from the waist.
Even though each day was more exhausting than the last, every inch of muscle in his body felt strangely excited, and his progress in Gentle Fist was clearly visible. He finally understood why people could get addicted to working out.
This feeling was—physical suffering, but not much mental payoff at all!
My script wasn't supposed to go like this!
"No. Something this good can't be enjoyed by me alone."
Somehow squeezing out strength from who-knows-where, Kiyonari suddenly sat up.
Ten minutes later.
Uchiha Mikoto hadn't even taken off her apron yet when she hurried to the entryway and opened the door, seeing a Byakugan boy bowing to her.
"Gomen nasai—I'm Hyuga Kiyonari. Is Sasuke home?"
"Oh, so you're Kiyonari. I hear Sasuke and Itachi mention you often," Mikoto said with a smile. "But—Sasuke isn't home right now. It's almost dinner time. Would you like to come in and sit for a while?"
"When Sasuke comes back, you can eat dinner together."
Kiyonari's eyes lit up slightly, a smile curling at his lips.
Oh? That's exactly what I want—Sasuke not being home. Heh heh heh—
"Then I'll be intruding." Kiyonari said politely, following Mikoto inside.
Mikoto led him to the living room and poured tea. "Please wait a moment, Kiyonari. I'll prepare some snacks."
"No need to trouble yourself." Kiyonari accepted the cup and looked at Mikoto seriously. "Actually—today I came mainly to talk to you about Sasuke."
Mikoto's movements paused. She then sat opposite him, concern appearing on her face. "Did something happen to Sasuke?"
"Not exactly."
Kiyonari set down the cup, his expression turning serious like a grown adult. Mikoto wasn't surprised—perhaps because she'd grown used to seeing that expression on her eldest son's face.
But what came next still caught her off guard.
Kiyonari leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice.
"Ma'am… you wouldn't want Sasuke to keep chasing Itachi's back forever, would you?"
The next morning before dawn.
When Sasuke was shaken awake by his mother, he was completely dazed. He groggily glanced out the window—the sky was still dark.
"Mom… what time is it?" Sasuke rubbed his eyes.
"Almost four," Mikoto said gently. "Get up. Kiyonari-kun should already be waiting for you."
"Kiyonari—oh—" Sasuke's brain took a few seconds to catch up. Then he jolted upright. "What?!"
A few minutes later, Sasuke bundled his coat tight and stepped outside. Kiyonari really was waiting.
"You're here," Kiyonari said with a warm smile.
"You jerk—what did you say to my mom—" Sasuke shivered, tugging his collar up another half inch. "It's not even dawn. What's wrong with you?"
"Have you ever seen Konoha at four in the morning?" Kiyonari asked instead of answering.
"Huh?" Sasuke blinked.
"Now you have." Kiyonari pointed around them.
Sasuke followed his finger. Stars filled the sky over Konoha, the streets were empty, and only the occasional birdcall broke the silence.
"If you wake at ten, train at eleven—let's say noon, because you have to eat after you wake up."
"Then you train two hours and need rest. You have to let your body recover, or you can't even refine chakra—so by the time you train again, it's almost six."
"Then you train two more hours until eight. You'll think: it's already night, I should rest and prepare for tomorrow. Right?"
Sasuke nodded unconsciously. "What's wrong with that?"
Then Kiyonari immediately blasted him.
"If you train like that, when are you ever going to catch up to Uchiha Itachi?!"
Sasuke: "!"
After some time, even Sasuke got used to waking early and gradually adapted to the intensity.
Which made Kiyonari feel strangely bored—so he started sleeping in again.
"Hey, Sasuke."
"Yeah?"
"Tomorrow morning… let's go drag Naruto out too."
"Fine."
~~~
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