The Hyuga compound was silent. Almost too silent. The white stone floors were polished like mirrors. The lanterns on the walls flickered softly. Hassan's sandals echoed faintly as he walked beside Hinata down the long corridor.
She stopped in front of a wooden sliding door with the Hyuga clan crest engraved on it.
> "My f-father is waiting inside," she whispered, her fingers tightening nervously.
"G-Good luck, Hassan-kun…"
He looked at her and simply nodded once. Calm. Focused.
> "Time to meet the lion."
---
Inside the Room…
The door slid open. Hassan stepped in.
There, at the center of the room, seated cross-legged at a low tea table, was Hiashi Hyuga, head of the clan. His face was sharp, stern, and unreadable. His pale eyes stared like a hawk assessing prey.
He was slowly sipping from a porcelain teacup, back straight, still as stone.
Hassan stood at the door and gave a small respectful bow.
> "May I have permission to enter your home, Hiashi-sama?"
Hiashi didn't speak at first. He simply nodded slightly and gestured toward the seat across from him.
> "You may."
Hassan stepped forward, calm and controlled, and sat with a straight spine. His movements were precise, measured, respectful — yet confident.
Just then, Hinata stepped in with a second cup of tea, gently placing it before Hassan. She bowed quickly, eyes darting between them, and then quietly left the room, sliding the door shut behind her.
Now it was just Hiashi and Hassan.
---
Hiashi set his cup down softly on the table.
His gaze hardened, and he began speaking — calm, but direct.
> "I will not waste time. I have a few questions. Answer them honestly."
Hassan nodded slightly.
> "Understood."
> Question 1: "What are your true intentions with my daughter?"
Hassan didn't blink. His voice was cold and level.
> "To help her grow. To protect her if needed. Nothing more, nothing less. She's a shinobi, and a good one — she deserves respect and strength, not fear."
Hiashi's eyes narrowed slightly… but he said nothing. He simply moved on.
> Question 2: "Are you seeking a place in the Hyuga clan? Do you expect status or rewards?"
Hassan raised an eyebrow slightly.
> "No. I already have a name — one I intend to make far greater than any clan title can give me."
A small moment of silence passed. Hiashi nodded very faintly. His fingers tapped the side of his cup.
> Question 3: "How are your grades at the academy?"
This time, Hassan answered with the smallest flicker of pride in his tone.
> "I am currently ranked number one in my class. My scores in kunai accuracy, chakra control, and written theory are the highest on record."
Hiashi finally sipped his tea again. Slowly. Then he placed the cup down.
He gave one final, long look at the white-haired boy before him. Then…
> Question 4: "Your name."
Hassan met his gaze directly.
> "Hassan Uzumaki."
The room fell silent. Hiashi's gaze lingered for another few seconds… and then he gave the faintest nod.
> "I see."
He stood, straightening his robes.
> "You may continue to train with Hinata… Hassan Uzumaki. I will be observing from afar. Do not disappoint me."
Hassan stood as well, respectfully bowing again.
> "I won't."
As he turned to leave, the tension in the room lifted just slightly.
Hiashi looked down at his tea once more.
> "A sharp mind. Cold confidence. And an Uzumaki… Interesting."
As Hassan walked toward the door, the air around him suddenly changed.
A sharp, invisible pressure rolled out from behind him—like a storm being held just beneath the surface. Hiashi, still sitting cross-legged at the table, slowly lifted his head and released a deathly aura. It wasn't loud. It wasn't obvious. But to any skilled shinobi, the message was clear:
> "Hurt her — and there won't be a single place in the world where you can hide from me."
The temperature seemed to drop slightly. The walls felt tighter. It was the aura of a man who had fought in wars, killed with precision, and protected his clan for decades.
But Hassan…?
He didn't flinch.
Didn't blink.
Didn't even turn his head.
He simply slid open the wooden door, stepped through, and gently closed it behind him—completely unfazed, as if nothing had happened at all.
---
Outside the Room…
Hinata stood waiting just a few steps away, wringing her hands nervously. The moment she saw Hassan, her head snapped up.
> "W-What happened?! Did he yell at you? Did he threaten you?" she asked, red in the face, clearly panicking.
Hassan gave her a small smirk, brushing his white hair back with one hand.
> "Oh, nothing much. Just a calm conversation. He asked my grades, my name… a few other things."
Hinata looked confused.
> "T-That's it…? You're not… scared?"
Hassan glanced back at the closed sliding door. He could still feel the death aura pressing against the wood like a tidal wave held back by paper.
> "Your father's intimidating. But intimidation only works on people who break under pressure."
He shrugged slightly and looked back at her, eyes calm and cold.
> "I don't break."
Hinata blinked—stunned for a moment. Her cheeks flushed red again.
> "Y-You're so calm… it's like you've faced worse."
Hassan didn't respond. He just gave a small smile and began walking down the hallway.
Hinata quickly followed beside him, still glancing back nervously at the room her father sat in.
---
As they reached the Hyuga compound gates, Hinata looked up at him again.
> "Uhm… thank you… for not being mean to Father."
Hassan raised an eyebrow.
> "Why would I? He's just doing what any father would do for someone he cares about."
Hinata turned tomato-red again and looked away, stuttering.
> "Y-You're really strange sometimes, Hassan-kun…"
He chuckled lightly.
> "That's what makes me dangerous."
As the two of them walked past the Hyuga gates and out into the dimming evening light, a soft breeze blew Hinata's dark hair slightly across her face. She brushed it behind her ear, hesitating for a second, then spoke.
> "U-Uhm… Hassan-kun… i-if you're already here, maybe you could… s-stay for dinner?"
Hassan raised an eyebrow with a small smirk.
> "Dinner?"
Hinata nodded quickly, her face already turning red again. Her fingers nervously played with the hem of her sleeve.
> "I-I… I made something today… f-for you. I thought maybe… if things went well with Father… you might stay. Just a little…"
He folded his arms casually, glancing at her with his usual cold-but-curious expression.
> "Hmph. You made something for me, huh?"
> Heh… she really went all in, didn't she?
How rare to find someone with this much effort in her heart…
> "What did you make?" he asked, voice low and teasing.
> "S-Special grilled chicken," she said quickly, hands clasped in front of her. "With sesame seasoning, lemon glaze, and rice on the side. I used a bit of my mother's old recipe."
Hassan's expression shifted, just a little.
A small smile.
One not of mockery or cold sarcasm — but the rare kind he gave only when impressed.
> "Hmph. Alright," he said with a light shrug. "But I'll only come to eat the food your hands made. Don't disappoint me."
Hinata's eyes lit up like a candle. She smiled, nodding quickly.
> "I won't ever!"
---
Later, in the Hyuga Clan's Side Dining Room…
The table was set neatly with traditional Hyuga porcelain dishes and patterned chopsticks. A few faint lanterns hung over the space, casting soft light over the room. Everything was quiet, formal… but there was a subtle warmth.
Hinata carefully brought out the tray — the grilled chicken steaming hot, garnished with herbs, laid over a bed of jasmine rice and sesame vegetables.
She placed the plate in front of Hassan, who watched every movement with sharp eyes.
> "T-There," she said, her voice soft but hopeful. "I hope you like it…"
Hassan picked up the chopsticks, clicked them once, then slowly took a bite.
A pause.
Then another bite.
Then a third.
Hinata was practically holding her breath, watching him closely, her fingers tangled behind her back.
Finally, Hassan set the chopsticks down and let out a quiet "Hmph."
> "...It's perfect."
Hinata's eyes widened.
> "R-Really?!"
> "The chicken is grilled with just enough char, the seasoning isn't overpowering, and the rice is well-steamed. You've got some skill," he said calmly. "Maybe not a chef, but definitely not a disappointment."
> "T-Thank you," she said, bowing deeply and smiling shyly. "I really wanted you to like it."
He leaned back slightly, sipping from the tea she poured.
> "If this is your cooking now, I wonder what it'll be like after a year of training."
> "I-I'll practice more," she said quickly. "For you."
---
As the night went on, they talked a little—about training, taijutsu, chakra control. Hassan gave her tips, and she listened carefully, jotting mental notes between sips of tea and glances that lingered too long.
By the time he stood to leave, the stars were already out.
> "Thanks for the meal," he said as he walked toward the gate.
Hinata followed, still slightly red.
> "You're welcome anytime, Hassan-kun…"
He paused, turned, and gave her a rare half-smile.
> "Then maybe I will be."