The next morning, Hinata rose early and performed her usual weight training. After a bath to wash away the sweat, she prepared for the match.
Because vigorous activity after eating was unwise, the duel was scheduled before breakfast.
When she entered the dojo, several people were already waiting—her father, Hanabi, the clan elders, and one more figure standing silently at the edge.
"Neji-nii-san…" Hinata greeted softly, her tone nervous.
Arms crossed, Neji Hyūga nodded indifferently. "Lady Hinata."
Hiashi opened his eyes. "If you're ready," he said, "we'll begin."
Hinata stepped into the center of the dojo. "Yes, Father."
"What about your weights?"
"I'm not wearing any," she replied.
Hiashi nodded approvingly, taking his stance. Hinata mirrored him.
Neji, kneeling to the side, watched in quiet boredom.
This is pointless, he thought. She couldn't even beat Hanabi yesterday. What does this weak, timid girl think she's doing facing the clan head?
He sighed inwardly. I'd rather take a nap than watch this farce.
"Come," Hiashi commanded.
"Haah!" Hinata exhaled sharply, dashing forward. In one motion, she dropped the remaining weighted plates hidden beneath her sleeves and belt—the ground cracked faintly beneath her step as her speed exploded.
Her palm struck out like lightning.
Hiashi didn't flinch. His right hand intercepted her strike, while his left hand, glowing with chakra, thrust toward her ribs.
But Hinata twisted midair, barely evading the blow. Her left hand clenched into a fist, striking toward her father's stomach, while her right palm slammed down on her own fist, amplifying the impact.
"!!"
The blow connected. Hiashi's chakra surged defensively, nullifying the internal shock that threatened to disrupt his organs. His expression hardened. He began attacking in earnest.
Palm shadows filled the air—swift, relentless, precise.
Hinata activated her Byakugan fully, her twice-refined eyes capturing every movement. Her foresight combined with instinct, allowing her to weave through her father's strikes as though she could read his mind.
Her movements weren't perfect—her stamina and physique couldn't keep up—but her reactions were astonishing.
Hiashi's thoughts sharpened as he pressed on.
She's struggling physically… but her sense for combat is extraordinary.
He could see it now—her composure, her subtle feints, her fluid transitions between offense and defense. Those weren't things one could learn at her age. Those came from experience—battle-honed instinct.
In that moment, Hiashi realized something shocking.
His once cowardly, hesitant daughter… fought like someone who had survived countless deadly battles!
…
"Onee-sama!" Hanabi gasped, her mouth hanging open in disbelief as she stared at the scene before her.
To her, her father's strength was unfathomable—his mastery of the Gentle Fist and its Finger Techniques was unparalleled within the Hyūga clan. Yet, the sister who had always seemed timid, who often drew or even lost against her in practice, was now matching their father blow for blow.
Could it be… had her sister been holding back all this time? Had she been letting her win?
…
"This is…!" Neji's eyes widened. His Byakugan flared to life, locking onto the two figures exchanging palm strikes in the center of the dojo.
Impossible! Absolutely impossible!
He had watched her grow up—this cowardly, hesitant girl whose chakra control was mediocre at best, whose resolve crumbled under pressure. She was so weak that even calling her "trash" once felt generous.
And yet, here she was—fighting evenly against the clan head himself.
For a moment, Neji imagined himself in Hiashi's place, facing this version of Hinata.
His stomach turned. He realized that even with his current strength… he would lose.
Hinata's physical attributes—speed, strength, endurance—were still below his. But her flawless battle rhythm, sharp instinct, and unnervingly precise prediction ability completely offset those differences.
She wasn't just reacting; she was reading the flow of the fight as if it had already happened.
…
No… my body can't keep up. This is all I can do.
Hinata exhaled sharply, her expression calm but strained. Her mind could see a dozen openings in her father's form—clear, perfect chances to strike—but her body was too slow to capitalize on them.
Hiashi finally stepped back, raising a hand to stop. He had intended only to test his daughter's limits, but now his pulse was racing. Sweat trickled down his temples.
There were several moments during that match—moments when, had he reacted just a heartbeat slower, she might have struck him cleanly.
"H-Hinata… you…"
He was too shocked to continue.
Hinata, meanwhile, collapsed to the ground, panting softly. Her cheeks flushed, she clutched her stomach and whispered timidly, "F-Father… may we eat now?"
Right on cue, her stomach growled audibly.
Hiashi froze. The heavy, awe-struck silence in the room shattered instantly. It felt like being doused in a bucket of cold water.
Reality returned with an almost comical thud.
He nearly smiled, but it turned into a sigh. She hasn't changed at all, has she?
So what if she had grown stronger? Her innocent, awkward personality remained the same. Strength alone wasn't everything.
"…Let's eat," he said finally, his tone quiet but fond.
…
Hanabi dashed forward with sparkling eyes. "Onee-sama! You're amazing!"
Hiashi gestured for Hinata to take Hanabi to breakfast. As the two left, the clan head and elders exchanged knowing looks—none of them spoke, but their shared astonishment was clear.
…
Later that morning, at the village training grounds, the Team Guy trio—Rock Lee, Neji, and Tenten—were already training.
Lee was sprinting laps with ankle weights. Neji practiced Gentle Fist forms, his movements unusually sharp.
Might Guy stood nearby, arms crossed, grinning with pride. Then, spotting Tenten standing idle, he bellowed, "Tenten! Are you wasting your youth again? Join them! Train until you collapse! Push yourself past your limits—and then, surpass them!"
"I'm human!" Tenten groaned. "That's not possible!"
But Neji wasn't listening. His mind was still trapped in that morning's memory—Hiashi and Hinata exchanging blows, their Gentle Fist forms, their fluid adaptability.
If strength were measured in raw statistics, his physical ability was easily double or triple Hinata's.
But in a real fight… he knew she would crush him.
Her combat instincts were honed far beyond what any academy training could produce.
Without overwhelming power or comparable experience, even he would lose.
Grinding his teeth, Neji stopped his practice abruptly. "Guy-sensei," he said firmly, "please spar with me. I need to improve my real combat experience."
Guy blinked in surprise—then smiled knowingly. "Ah… I see. The flames of youth have finally been lit in you, Neji!"
From that day, everyone in their class noticed Neji's change. His once-calm demeanor was sharper, driven. It was as though something—or someone—had lit a fire inside him.
…
Meanwhile, Hinata returned home, ate a hearty meal, rested briefly, and then put her weights back on before heading out again.
Her team didn't gather every day. Missions were scheduled three times a week—either Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, or Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. The rest of the time was for personal training or rest.
Hinata's training routine was simple but relentless. She deliberately avoided using chakra, forcing herself to adapt to the burden of her weights through sheer physical strength.
At her current level, she needed chakra to move freely during battle. Without it, every motion felt painfully slow.
To overcome that, she had to train until her body could bear the weight naturally—and only then add more.
…
Deep within the quiet expanse of the Konoha Forest, she stopped and raised her right hand. Chakra concentrated in her palm until it shimmered like condensed light.
"Ten Divine Void Strikes."
The air erupted.
A torrent of invisible fists burst outward, each one slamming into its surroundings with the force of an explosion.
Within a ten-meter radius, rocks shattered and trees splintered as though caught in a cyclone of pure chakra.
Hinata lowered her arm slowly, her expression calm.
If I had used this against Father, she thought, it wouldn't have just defeated him… it might have killed him.
Her gaze softened. This wasn't a move to be used lightly—especially not against her ally.