Chapter 1: The Branch Family's Fate

Konoha, Year 31, Spring.

With the new year barely passed, the lingering snow had yet to completely melt. An unyielding, biting chill swept over the blue-tiled roofs and swirled through the courtyards, though fragile blades of grass struggled to push through the frost to sprout new buds.

Inside the ancestral shrine of the Hyūga compound, Clan Head Hyūga Munenobu, Great Elder Hyūga Harutake, Second Elder Hyūga Moritsuna, and Third Elder Hyūga Shigeo were all gathered.

The shrine's wooden doors were tightly shut, and the charcoal braziers flickered fitfully, making the air inside several degrees colder than the outdoors.

For the first time in nearly a hundred years, the Hyūga clan had lost a Byakugan.

Hyūga Takanobu, the eldest grandson of Second Elder Moritsuna and the designated heir to his branch of the Main House, had fallen into an ambush by Kirigakure ninja during a mission, resulting in one of his Byakugan being plundered. 

To prevent the news from leaking and making the Hyūga clan a laughingstock, Hyūga Munenobu had suppressed the matter the very moment word reached him, personally traveling to Sarutobi Hiruzen's residence to explain the situation.

"Let's hear your thoughts on how to handle this."

Munenobu's gaze swept across the men present before finally resting on Moritsuna.

Although the incident had been suppressed, how to deal with the aftermath remained a thorny problem.

If Takanobu had died on the spot, things would actually have been simpler: they could have punished the branch family members who failed to protect him, pinned a debt on Kirigakure, placed a bounty in the underworld, and considered the matter closed.

The problem was that Takanobu was not dead; dragging his mutilated body back to Konoha under the desperate cover of several branch family escorts, he had survived. Munenobu had pondered for a long time before ultimately deciding to first hear what the elders intended to do.

As his voice trailed off, everyone instinctively cast their gazes toward Moritsuna.

Moritsuna wore a deeply troubled frown. Seeing all eyes on him, he wanted to voice his thoughts, but for a moment, he did not know how to begin.

Shigeo was the youngest of the elders, even younger than Munenobu by a few years, and possessed the most volatile temper.

Seeing Moritsuna's hesitation now, and feeling that the Hyūga clan had been defiled by the loss of a Byakugan, he immediately blurted out:

"Losing a Byakugan is a crime punishable by death. Since that little grandson of yours, Shingo, hasn't even received the Caged Bird Curse Mark yet, just have that brat inherit the main family line instead."

"No!" Moritsuna refused without a second thought.

Bang!

Shigeo slammed his right fist onto the tea table, producing a heavy thud.

"Then what do you propose we do? Back in the Warring States period, losing a Byakugan was a grave offense that wouldn't have even allowed him to return alive! Besides, he only has one eye left now; how could he possibly shoulder the dignity of the main family?"

"Shigeo! Takanobu is my grandson, the heir of my lineage!"

"Enough, enough. Arguing won't solve anything."

Munenobu immediately cut off the two men, whose faces were already turning red from anger after just a couple of sentences.

"Moritsuna, since you disagree with Shigeo's idea, you must already have a fixed resolution in mind. Speak plainly, how do you intend to deal with this?"

Moritsuna's Adam's apple bobbed, his hands tightly clenched inside his wide sleeves.

"Takanobu lost a Byakugan; his guilt is undeniable. My proposal is to confine him within the village for life, forbidding him from stepping outside a single step."

"Naturally, such a punishment isn't enough, but Takanobu is, after all, my grandson and the heir of my lineage."

"I ask you all to spare his life for my sake. In the future, I will do my utmost to compensate the clan for its losses."

The others raised no objections to his decision, nodding to signal him to continue.

"As for the missing Byakugan... Although Shingo has not been branded with the Caged Bird, he is undeniably a branch family member. To sacrifice oneself for the main family is his honor."

"Let us... take one of his eyes and transplant it to Takanobu."

As those words fell, the ancestral shrine plunged into a dead silence.

They knew how deeply Moritsuna valued his eldest grandson. Before Shingo was even born, Takanobu's status as the main family heir had already been secured, and he had begun learning the Caged Bird control methods and other Hyūga secret techniques from an early age.

Under such circumstances, demoting Takanobu to the branch family was indeed practically impossible, which was why Munenobu had privately felt it might have been better for Takanobu to simply die out in the field.

Yet upon hearing this decision, everyone remained silent.

Until a crackling pop from the charcoal brazier broke the stillness, and Munenobu, snapping out of his thoughts, was the first to speak:

"Very well."

"I have no objections."

"I have no objections either."

Seeing that the clan head voiced no opposition, Great Elder Harutake and Shigeo, neither of whom had spoken until now, both nodded in agreement.

"In that case, Second Elder, you will handle this matter yourself. Remember to make it clean," Munenobu instructed, rubbing his aching temples.

…

The Second Elder's Residence.

"I told you long ago to put the Caged Bird on Shingo earlier, but you insisted that putting a bit of pressure on Takanobu would help him grow faster..."

Hyūga Kaoruko's voice was hoarse, trembling uncontrollably. The white kimono embroidered with the clan crest she wore was deeply creased, and the collar bore a few drops of dried tears.

Her meticulously combed hair bun was mostly disheveled, and she didn't even care that the Caged Bird mark, normally hidden by her bangs, was now exposed.

The mere thought of her eldest son Takanobu's miserable state brought a fresh, unstoppable flood of tears down her eye sockets.

She accepted the handkerchief handed to her by her husband and wiped away the moisture. Her withered fingers clutched the fabric so tightly that her knuckles turned white, almost piercing the cloth, while her gaze, venomous and frosted over, pinned itself onto Shingo.

"You thought that by practicing day and night and showing off your talent, you could compete with Takanobu for the main family succession?"

"Let me tell you, Shingo! From the moment you were born, you were destined to be a branch family member! Realize your place early; you will forever be Takanobu's subordinate!"

Compete for the main family succession?

Listening to his mother's malicious, hate-filled words, Hyūga Shingo found it all utterly laughable.

It was nothing more than an anxiety-driven fear of when he might be branded with the Caged Bird, coupled with the dread of dying in the upcoming Ninja World War that would erupt in just a few years.

Driven by that panic, he had simply poured his heart and soul into improving his strength, inevitably letting his talent show.

Judging by the starkly different treatment the Second Elder and these two biological parents usually displayed, if anyone ever spoke of "competition" within the Hyūga clan, not a single soul would believe it.

Probably only a fool like Takanobu could be frightened out of his wits by occasional glimpses of Shingo's talent, growing desperate to prove in a single mission that he was more worthy of the main family seat than Shingo.

Yet he had been stupid enough to get outmaneuvered by Kirigakure ninja and lose a Byakugan.

Shingo had never possessed even half a shred of covetousness toward the main family position.

Having transmigrated six years ago, he had long since accepted reality. His grueling daily practice was merely a bid to carve out a sliver of breathing room in this rigidly stratified family, to ensure his own survival, and to give himself a better grasp at shattering the Caged Bird when the time came.

Yet Takanobu's incompetence was ultimately going to be pinned on his head.

Shingo kept his head lowered, concealing the mockery and coldness in the depths of his eyes. He only found this farce absurd and ridiculous.

Hyūga Masamitsu raised a hand to gently pat Kaoruko's trembling back in reassurance. "Alright, Takanobu coming back alive is already a blessing."

His gaze swept past his wife and landed on Shingo standing to the side.

Shingo kept his head bowed, but his spine remained ramrod straight. His eyes were fixed intently on the wood grain of the floorboards, as if he hadn't heard Kaoruko's reprimand at all.

Masamitsu had expected Shingo to show some anger upon hearing those words, to demand why they were so biased, or to declare that he did want to become the main family head.

Instead, there was absolute nothingness, nothing echoed in the air save for a dead silence.

At that moment, hurried yet suppressed footsteps sounded from outside the door.

A Hyūga ninja approached Masamitsu, bowed, handed over a scroll, and quickly retreated.

Masamitsu's fingers trembled slightly as he unrolled the heavy scroll.

Inside were only one word, yet they left Masamitsu's heart in a turbulent whirl of conflicting emotions.

Begin.

Masamitsu's fingers brushed over the handwriting instinctively, the not-yet-fully-dried ink smudging onto his skin. He closed his eyes to steady his composure.

When he opened them again, every trace of hesitation was gone.

This was a necessary sacrifice.

"Physician, you may begin."

The moment the words fell, a purple-robed, plain-clothed physician kneeling behind Shingo stepped forward with two assistants, their expressions solemn and grim.

Kaoruko's crying stopped abruptly. The room was left with only the harsh, grating sounds of the assistants opening medicine chests and pulling out various metal instruments in preparation for the procedure.

"Shingo, surely you understand. Being able to sacrifice yourself for your elder brother as a member of the branch family is your honor."

Masamitsu's voice carried no emotion, though his eyes failed to mask the complex feelings churning within them.

Shingo raised his head to look at his father. Their eyes met, and that indifferent gaze made Masamitsu's heart skip a beat.

"I understand."

Shingo offered no superfluous words. He took a wooden strip handed to him by one of the physician's assistants and shoved it into his mouth, biting down hard.

Seeing that Shingo was prepared, the purple-robed physician raised both hands, pressing his fingers against the sides of Shingo's temples.

A gentle glow of chakra slowly lit up before Shingo's eyes, and a numb sensation gradually spread outward from the physician's fingertips.

Once the numbness set in, the majority of the pain would vanish.

Yet even the remaining fraction was enough to test the limits of human endurance.

The instant the sharp scalpel sliced through the skin at the corner of his eye, Shingo's body locked rigid, yet not a single sound escaped him. Cold sweat beaded along his temples, soaking his bangs.

The purple-robed physician worked with gentle, crisp, and decisive movements, seemingly trying to spare Shingo as much pain as possible.

Even so, the delicate sounds of skin and muscle tissue being severed echoing within the room were enough to make everyone present shudder.

Within moments, an intact Byakugan was carefully placed into a dish filled with nutrient solution.

Seeing this, the purple-robed physician let out a breath of relief. Just as he reached to pull out a prepared ordinary eyeball to transplant into Shingo's socket…

Shingo, drenched in cold sweat and trembling uncontrollably from the torment, made a heart-stopping move.

He spat out the blood-stained wooden strip from his mouth, formed his left hand into a claw, and thrust it toward his remaining, undamaged left eye without a moment's hesitation.

Splat—

Another dull sound echoed out as fresh blood spurted, splashing onto the pristine tatami mats and blooming into glaring, blinding flowers.

Shingo's eye sockets were hollow and empty, tears of blood streaming down, yet his posture grew even more upright and reverent.

Cupping his own remaining Byakugan in his hand, blood slowly seeping between his fingers, his face as pale as paper, the agony making his voice intermittent and strained, he spoke with a determination that brooked no argument:

"How could a single eye grant my elder brother peace of mind?"

"Only by surrendering both eyes can I sever every lingering thought I ever had."