As we walked toward the gate, Jimei seemed to be silently counting the number of shuriken in his weapons pouch, while Natsu still looked lost in thought.
Well, there wouldn't be a better time than now.
"Natsu!" I called out. She stopped and turned slightly toward me. "You okay? You haven't been the same since you saw Tokuma."
She hesitated. Looked at me, then looked away. "It's... complicated."
Jimei stopped counting and stepped closer. "Wait, is there drama? Like, clan drama? I bet it's a clan thing."
"It is." Natsu answered bluntly. "Clan stuff. But it's not recent. It goes back generations."
So that was it. I sighed when I heard the reason.
The Hyuuga clan is one of Konoha's most powerful, respected for their pure bloodline and feared for the Byakugan. But behind that pride and prestige, there was rot. A twisted pride, harsh traditions... and a cold cruelty turned inward against their own.
Natsu mirrored my sigh, her eyes fixed on the ground like her words were too heavy to lift.
"Ever since the attempted kidnapping of the Hyuuga heiress, the tension between the main and branch families has only gotten worse. That event stirred up a lot of anger—misplaced anger. And those of us from the branch family, like me, ended up carrying the weight of it all."
"But you're family…" Jimei said, frowning. "Shouldn't that mean you... I don't know, protect each other even more?"
Yes. In an ideal world, yes. But in Konoha, family didn't always mean unity. And in the Hyuuga clan, that word felt more like a cage
than a bond.
Even Neji, who was the nephew of the clan leader, suffered when he was younger. He even got lucky. He was close to Hinata. But what about the others? How many Hyuuga from the branch family had their names erased, their wounds ignored, their voices silenced?
"In theory, yes." Natsu replied, forcing a lifeless smile. "But between theory and what really happens… there's the seal."
She stopped at the gate leading into the forest. For a moment, silence wrapped around us like a thick fog. Then, with a calm motion, she reached up and let her forehead protector slip down to her neck, revealing what had been hidden beneath it.
A green seal was there.
Its design was deceptively simple. Marked by clean lines that seemed to mask its complexity. You could almost call it beautiful… but I felt nothing but disgust when I saw it.
The sight of that seal unsettled me more than I expected.
It didn't look like a symbol of protection or honor.
It looked like a collar. A cruel reminder of who commands and who obeys. Of who owns and who is owned.
"This seal..." I muttered, almost to myself. "...it's like a shackle. Like something used on slaves."
My voice was low and harsh. I'd always hated slavery. Is one of the worst things humanity could create.
Tradition. What a joke. What kind of tradition brands its own children like disposable tools?
"You're not wrong!" Natsu said quietly, not even lifting her eyes. "That's exactly what it is. An invisible shackle… one that can kill with a single command from the main family. No matter how hard you fight, how much you try... you're always less. Always punishable. Always controlled."
Jimei stayed silent. And for the first time in a long while, even he looked serious.
She pulled the bandana back up over the seal and let out a faint sigh.
"My mother and Tokuma's mother were cousins." Natsu said at last, her voice softer now. "But while my mother came from the branch family, his was from the main. Same blood, almost... yet we were raised in different worlds."
I stood there in silence, listening alongside Jimei, who looked just as focused on her words as I was.
"When Tokuma-sama was born, my mother was chosen to help raise him. Nanny, maid, servant… Call it whatever you like. I was a little older, so I watched him grow up. And for a while, he was... kind. Kids don't understand those divisions at first."
Natsu gave a faint smile, and that one was a painful smile. That smile doesn't fit her.
"He used to call me Nee-chan. He always wanted to play. I saw his first steps, heard his first words. For a few years, I really believed we were…" she hesitated for a second before speaking again "Family."
I didn't say anything. I couldn't. I could picture the scene. After all, even Hinata and Neji seemed close once, before Hizashi's death changed everything.
"But when he got older... things changed," Natsu continued, her gaze now fixed on some invisible point on the ground. "He started listening to the others. He began repeating words like 'roles', 'duties', 'protecting the bloodline'. Then one day... he stopped calling me Nee-chan. Started using my name. Later, just 'you'. Or... 'servant', when we're on clan grounds. Now he doesn't even look me in the eye."
Silence.
"But… he's your cousin, right?" Jimei asked after a pause, his voice hesitant, like he already knew the answer might hurt.
Natsu took a long moment to reply. And when she did, it was barely above a whisper.
"Not anymore."
Just two words. Heavy words.
We stood there for a moment, trapped in a pause that none of us wanted to break. A soft breeze passed through, making the leaves
around us dance—like even the forest itself was mourning alongside her.
Natsu didn't move. She stood upright, but not steady. Quiet, but not at peace. It was like she carried a weight on her shoulders no one else could see.
I looked at her and bit my lip. There was nothing I could do to erase that seal from her forehead. Nothing I could do to change the Hyuuga clan's system. Not now.
Damn it.
I really wished I had studied fuinjutsu… but it was hard to even find
information about it.
I sighed. There was something I had to ask her. And I couldn't avoid it.
"If you had to face Tokuma in a fight…" I started, hesitant, choosing every word with care. "...would you be able to?"
Natsu didn't answer right away. She stayed silent for a few seconds, her gaze lost among the leaves swaying in the wind.
When she finally turned to me, there was something in her eyes… not anger. Not coldness. Doubt. But not a paralyzing doubt—one that had already been weighed and measured long ago.
"I… don't know…" She admitted with a low voice. "Part of me still hopes I won't have to."
Jimei looked away, like staying there felt too intrusive. I stayed quiet listening and looking at her.
"But if it's necessary…" Natsu took a deep breath, and her expression hardened. "If it's for my team… then yes. I will fight."
There was no arrogance in her voice this time. No challenge. Just a promise. A kind of loyalty that went beyond blood.
"I don't want this to be my fight. He's family. Or… he was, at least." She paused. "But my team matters more now. You two do."
That caught me off guard.
She looked at me, then at Jimei, and on her face there was this strange mix of sadness and resolve.
"I was raised hearing I had to protect the clan. That I had to accept my place in it. But when my mother died… no one came. None of them. Not even from the main family. Just silence." Natsu clenched her fists. Her shoulders were tense now. ''That's when I understood. What's left for me… is what I choose to protect. And I chose you."
She turned her face back toward the trees, staring into the canopy above.
Something about her had changed. More vulnerable, maybe. But stronger too—in a quiet, unshakable way.
"If it's him… I'll hesitate. But I won't back down."
We fell silent again. But this time, it wasn't uncomfortable. It was respect.
And maybe—just maybe—fear, too.
Because I wasn't sure I wanted to see that fight happen.
But if it did…
One thing was already clear to me:
Tokuma had no idea what was waiting for him.