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Hizashi's steps were steady and precise.
Each footfall landed at a fixed distance.
This was a rule of the Branch Family.
He walked through the corridor, out of the courtyard, leaving behind the stifling atmosphere of the Main Family.
Finally, he pushed open the small gate to his own home.
The sound of the gate hinge turning was soft.
The courtyard was small. A few wildflowers grew in the corner, adding a touch of life to the dull surroundings.
A woman stood under the eaves, holding a freshly dried coat, waiting quietly for him.
She was Hizashi's wife, also from the Branch Family.
Seeing him return, her face showed no particular emotion, but her pure Byakugan softened.
"You're back."
Her voice was gentle, like a soft breeze.
"Mm."
Hizashi responded, placing his luggage and money box under the eaves.
The woman stepped forward naturally, taking the outer robe he had removed. She then picked up the dried coat and carefully helped him put it on.
Her fingers were nimble, her movements gentle, smoothing out every wrinkle on the fabric.
"Everything is ready," she said softly.
"Mm."
Hizashi replied again, reaching out to gently hold his wife's somewhat cold hand.
They did not speak further.
But in that silence flowed a warmth and understanding that outsiders could never comprehend.
The two walked into the room side by side.
The room was not large, but it was meticulously tidy.
On the tatami, a small figure lay quietly under a futon, sleeping soundly.
That was their child, Neji.
Hyuga Neji.
Only a few months old, his small face was chubby, his eyelashes long, and he occasionally smacked his tiny mouth.
Hizashi knelt beside the futon, his usually straight back finally relaxing.
He reached out to touch his son, but his hand stopped in mid-air.
He looked down at his calloused hands, hands capable of sudden violence and killing.
He was afraid of disturbing his son's dream.
His wife noticed his hesitation, smiled, and pulled his hand over, gently placing it on the swaddling clothes.
"He's very well-behaved. He doesn't cry much."
"He's like you."
A genuine smile finally appeared on Hizashi's face, one from deep within his heart.
He gazed at his son's sleeping face, his eyes gentle.
"Neji…"
He whispered softly.
Freedom?
For him, it was both a luxury and an irony.
But looking at his son, he suddenly felt that his journey might truly bring this child real freedom.
Perhaps Neji wouldn't have to bear that humiliating mark on his forehead.
Perhaps he wouldn't have to bow before the Main Family.
Perhaps he wouldn't have to be like him, a bird trapped in a cage until death.
If he could achieve these things, what did his own life matter?
Daimyo… that title flashed through his mind, carrying a reverence and hope he hadn't even realized he possessed.
"On the way, be careful."
At some point, his wife had leaned gently against his shoulder.
"Mm, I know."
Hizashi put his arm around her, savoring this rare moment of tenderness.
"Winter is coming soon. The Fire Capital will probably be cold."
"It's fine. The clothes you made are very thick."
"Be careful with money."
"The stipend from Daimyo-sama is generous. It's enough."
They chatted idly, talking about ordinary household matters.
Yet it felt more comforting than any solemn vow.
Time passed bit by bit.
The sky outside the window turned golden.
Hizashi knew it was time to leave.
He took one last look at his sleeping son, as if engraving the image into his heart.
Then, he slowly rose.
His wife also stood, adjusting his clothes.
"I'm leaving."
"I'll wait for you to come back."
No more words were exchanged.
Hizashi picked up his luggage and money box, turned, and walked out the door.
The moment he stepped outside, the warmth of a husband and father vanished.
His figure once again became calm and upright.
His wife stood behind the door, silently watching him.
He didn't look back, walking straight ahead. The morning mist had not yet dispersed.
At Konoha's main gate, Hizashi stood alone, his posture straight.
He was the earliest to arrive.
A gust of wind blew, and a figure approached from a distance.
It was Asuma Sarutobi.
Among the Guardian Ninja, he was the youngest.
Seeing Hizashi, Asuma paused, then raised his hand in greeting.
"Morning, Hizashi-senpai."
He walked forward, smiling cheerfully and speaking with a polite tone.
"I didn't expect you to be even earlier than me."
As the Third Hokage's son, Asuma knew how to interact with elites from prominent families.
Hizashi was a little surprised.
He knew Asuma's rebellious nature and didn't expect him to be so polite.
He nodded politely. "Morning, Asuma."
Asuma habitually pulled out his cigarette case, flicked one out, and placed it in his mouth.
His hand reached for a lighter, but he stopped.
He glanced at Hizashi, then at the cigarette between his fingers.
Clicking his tongue, he withdrew his hand, keeping the unlit cigarette in his mouth.
Leaning lazily against the gatepost, Asuma said, "We'll be working together for ten years, Senior."
"A place like the Fire Capital must have tons of rules. Just thinking about it gives me a headache."
"Perhaps. Everywhere has many rules."
The two chatted casually.
Soon, three more figures arrived together.
They were Ninja from the Ino–Shika–Chō families.
The Nara clansman leading them saw Asuma and raised his chin.
"Asuma, you're here too!"
"Yeah, you guys are pretty early too."
Asuma smiled, clearly familiar with them.
Before he finished speaking, a figure appeared in an instant—an Uchiha Ninja.
His expression, like most of his clan, was calm and distant. His gaze swept across the scene.
He nodded slightly, a form of greeting, then stood alone on the other side, keeping his distance.
It wasn't hostility. Everyone understood that.
It was simply the Uchiha's way.
They also knew that once on the battlefield, the Uchiha were the most reliable comrades. Unless they died, they would never betray their allies.
Next came the Inuzuka, Aburame, and Kurama clans, arriving one after another.
Some of them were familiar with each other, having even saved one another's lives on the battlefield.
Now, they nodded and exchanged a few words.
Finally, two young men approached, their steps cautious.
They were Kazuma and Natsukawa, outstanding individuals who had risen from the civilian ranks.
Seeing the elites from the major families, they instinctively stopped at the edge of the group.
Asuma noticed them and waved.
"Hey, you two, come over here. Don't stand so far away."
This gesture immediately put them at ease, and they walked over gratefully.
Eleven people.
Konoha's Guardian Ninja.
All were now present.
They came from different families, with different backgrounds and personalities.
There was a rebel like Asuma, a Hokage's son who wanted to escape his father's shadow.
An elite like Hizashi, burdened by family destiny.
And civilian geniuses like Kazuma and Natsukawa, eager to prove themselves.
But from today onward, they would share one identity.
One loyalty.
They looked at each other, knowing in their hearts that from the moment they stepped out of Konoha's main gate, they would become the Daimyo's direct Guardian Ninja, comrades who would serve together for ten years.
Asuma looked around, counted the heads, and took the cigarette from his mouth.
"There are eleven of us here, so everyone should be present."
"I heard my father say that the last member of the Twelve Guardian Ninja is Great Master Chiriku, the Guardian Monk of the Fire Temple. He'll meet us in the Fire Capital. Any questions?"
No one spoke.
The Ninja from the major families remained calm, clearly already informed.
Kazuma and Natsukawa, however, showed faint surprise, not expecting a non-Konoha member in their group.
Asuma nodded at their reaction. "Since there are no questions, let's depart. I can't wait."
He said no more and took the first step forward.
Hizashi followed closely behind.
The others followed in silence.
The moment they stepped beyond the village gate, without a single word, their formation spread out instantly into a standard alert formation.
The road ahead was unknown, but those traveling together were, for now, comrades.
Their destination: the Fire Capital.
(To be continued.)
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