The Branch Family Head's residence was dimly lit, the night air heavy with a chilling stillness.
Thud… Thud…
Dull, rhythmic blows echoed through the courtyard.
A pale-faced boy stood alone beneath the night sky, his forehead wrapped tightly in bandages that concealed what lay beneath. His fists moved again and again in smooth, practiced arcs, striking a wooden post with relentless precision.
Yet as he continued, the dazed, youthful look on his face gradually twisted into something fierce and distorted. The calm gentleness he once possessed vanished, replaced by a harsh, vicious edge. His Gentle Fist strikes grew increasingly brutal and violent.
He used no chakra at all.
It was a self-destructive method of training.
Blood soon soaked into his knuckles, flesh torn open, while deep dents formed in the wooden post. Fresh crimson stains appeared where his hands landed.
This was no longer practice.
It was venting.
Even so, he showed no sign of stopping.
Only one scene replayed endlessly in Hyūga Neji's mind—
The moment, just days ago, when he first truly witnessed the Caged Bird Seal.
As always, he had gone to spar with the young main-family heiress.
By then, the mark had already been carved into his forehead, yet he had never understood what it truly meant. He had naively believed what the elders said—that it symbolized the Branch Family's responsibility to protect the Main Family.
Responsibility.
The word carried no real weight for him.
To Neji, protecting his little cousin had always felt natural. As an older brother, it was simply what he should do.
With or without that so-called "responsibility," he had protected Hinata every single day.
Until that day.
That moment.
The moment he saw the man he revered most—his father—clutching his own head, body convulsing as he screamed and writhed on the floor like a dying animal.
Neji had never understood why his father refused to remove his forehead protector, even at home.
Not until it slipped free.
Not until the seal beneath was revealed.
Veins bulged grotesquely across his father's brow, like writhing centipedes, while the cursed mark itself seemed to pulse and squirm with sickly life.
And standing there—
The so-called Head of the Main Family.
The man Neji should have called uncle.
He watched coldly, without the slightest trace of pity, as he activated the seal.
"Only this once," Hyūga Hiashi said flatly, his Byakugan gleaming in the darkness.
"Do not forget your duty."
That was the first time Neji truly saw the ugliness of the Caged Bird Seal.
The first time he understood what it meant.
That mark could destroy their brain tissue effortlessly.
Which meant that the Main Family held absolute power over the lives and deaths of the Branch Family.
The moment a branch member harbored rebellion, failed their duty, or overstepped their place—
They could be executed at will.
And yet, everyone called this curse—
Something that could only be escaped through death—
A necessity.
From that day on, the gentle Neji disappeared.
The affection he once held for Hinata twisted into revulsion and hatred—
the gaze of an enemy, not a brother.
Crack!
Teeth clenched, Neji struck again, his ears ringing with his father's past words.
"Neji, do not resent the Main Family. The Caged Bird is not a curse—it is protection."
"I understand, Father."
"Our Byakugan is coveted by outsiders. This is to prevent it from falling into enemy hands—to protect the future of the Hyūga."
"I understand, Father."
"This is the duty of the Branch Family. This is our fate. One day, you will understand."
"I understand, Father…"
Crack—!
With a shriek of tearing air, the wooden post finally gave way, snapping cleanly in half. Splinters scattered like falling snow.
Neji staggered and collapsed to his knees.
Blood dripped steadily from his mangled hands.
His long black hair fell forward, obscuring his face as he whispered hoarsely:
"I understand, Father…"
But I don't.
Why can the Main Family accept all of this so calmly?
Why are they allowed to accept it so naturally?!
Those who torment their own kin—
why do they get to sit atop the Branch Family, enjoying everything without guilt,
while calling our sacrifices fate?
Click.
A faint sound from behind shattered the courtyard's silence.
Dim yellow light spilled out as a door opened.
A tall figure approached, his broad shadow enveloping Neji's kneeling form.
"Neji…"
Hyūga Hizashi stared at his son's back, his expression painfully complex.
After decades—no, centuries—of tradition, most Branch Family children were indoctrinated from birth.
They were taught that they existed solely to protect the Main Family.
Joy at the Main Family's praise.
Fear at their anger.
Rage on their behalf.
Hizashi should have raised Neji the same way.
But he never could.
Perhaps he had regretted it at times over the past three years—
yet whenever he saw the genuine affection in Neji's smile toward Hinata, he felt relieved.
He did not want Neji and Hinata to end up like himself and his elder brother.
He hoped that when the seal was finally placed, Neji would accept it willingly, still able to care for Hinata as before.
In Hizashi's eyes, Hinata would never use the seal on Neji.
They could remain family.
But he never imagined—
That his own moment of weakness,
that fleeting killing intent toward Hinata,
would lead to events that shattered Neji so completely.
"Father."
Neji rose to his feet, hiding his injured hands behind his back.
Hizashi came back to himself and gently placed a hand on Neji's head, forcing a warm smile.
"Your Eight Trigrams Thirty-Two Palms is already very refined," he said softly.
"After some time, I'll teach you more advanced Gentle Fist techniques."
"Yes, Father."
Neji's face remained calm—
utterly devoid of joy.
Hizashi fell silent.
After a long pause, he sighed inwardly.
"Go treat your wounds," he said, glancing at Neji's concealed hands.
"Don't do this again."
"…Yes, Father."
Neji turned and walked back into the house.
Hizashi remained where he was, unmoving.
Once, he too had tried to resist fate.
But long ago, he realized—
Fate is not a person standing before you, whose throat you can seize.
Fate has no weakness.
It advances.
It retreats.
And neither you nor I can escape it.
"I only hope that as Neji grows," Hizashi murmured quietly, "the hatred in his heart will fade. That this suffering will one day become the strength that shapes him."
Just as he turned to leave—
A soft, mocking laugh drifted through the night wind.
"How pitiful," a voice said calmly.
"The unfortunate always end up creating someone even more unfortunate than themselves."