Time passed just like that.
At two, I tried to talk constantly, doing my best to soak up vocabulary from anyone nearby—probably annoying the heck out of my branch member caretakers. I also developed basic motor skills and started experimenting with my chakra, hoping to awaken my bloodlines early.
I pushed chakra to my eyes, my bones, circulated it throughout my body, trying to improve control. No major success though, but I kept at it.
At three, I had a rough conclusion: I have no Shikotsumyaku. Despite flooding my bones with chakra daily, nothing happened.However, I did have something else: a healing factor.
I broke my arm while climbing the walls of my room. I heard the snap—but minutes later, it was perfectly fine. When the branch members checked, they found nothing. I was dismissed as a dramatic toddler.
I had better luck with the Byakugan. I could activate it, though the range was pitiful—barely a meter.
Honestly, it made my vision worse. But it let me see my own chakra network from the neck down, which was a huge help in refining control.
At four, my formal training began: light exercise, katas, and chakra drills with other Hyuga children.
I stuck out like a sore thumb. A sea of black hair... and then me, with my mop of straight white hair. The other kids mostly avoided me. I didn't blame them.
But it still stung. Despite that, I excelled at the shinobi arts.
While my taijutsu was still basic, my chakra control, stamina, and strength stood out. Within weeks, I was labeled a prodigy and pulled from the group to train one-on-one with a branch instructor named Haruto.
Not much changed socially after that little debacle though. My mother offered a rare "Good work, you're doing the clan proud," and a pat on the head. That was it. She remained cold and distant.
I didn't blame her. I was a reminder of something she probably wanted to forget.
Under Haruto's harsh training, I was pushed to my limits daily—then patched up by my healing factor, only to go again. He taught me tenketsu, organ placement, how to strike to maximize internal damage. Then told me to keep training.I asked—repeatedly—to learn medical ninjutsu.
He refused—repeatedly.
"Unbecoming of a main branch member," he eventually said, after I proved my chakra control by water-walking.
Ugh! I swear I'll put some sand in his eyes one day. See how those vaunted Byakugan fare against Anakin's worst enemy.
Still, I didn't give up. I said I wanted to heal myself so I could train harder and bring more honor to the clan. Still nothing. Guess Haruto was smarter than I thought. Eventually, I shelved that goal—temporarily...
I'll trust my healing factor to get me through until the Academy for now. I'd return to medical jutsu later.
In the evenings, I experimented with my Byakugan. I followed the flow of chakra through my brain and eyes, adjusting the intensity in tiny increments.
Cautiously. Praying I wouldn't injure myself.
I discovered I could narrow my field of vision—from 360 degrees down to about 170. With that, my range dramatically improved. I could still see chakra, still see through walls. It was a major upgrade.
Energized by the success, I kept pushing. Soon, I learned to slow my perception of time—like a discount Sharingan. I was ecstatic. I couldn't stop smiling for days.
Naturally, I got cocky, and started experimenting with enhancing other areas of my brain using chakra—not just the Byakugan's automatic paths.
And that stunt got me hospitalized…