Naruto: Being a Shinobi with no System But...

The Special Training Class had just gained new members—exchange students from the Hidden Mist.

Hyuga Neji didn’t so much as bat an eye.

Four of the Five Great Ninja Villages had already sent people; it was only natural the last would arrive eventually.

Within the venue, the Hyuga clan held considerable influence. Even as a branch house member, Neji stood at the absolute peak of his generation.

With top-tier talent and a place in the high-profile training alongside the Uchiha clan head’s second son, he had, without anyone saying it aloud, become a symbol of Konoha’s rising strength.

He had known before most that the Hidden Mist exchange students were entering the Venue District and would soon be joining the village’s classes.

It was an expected development, one that stirred no waves in his heart.

So when Chōjūrō, Haku, and Hozuki Suigetsu stood on the training ground, he didn’t share the curiosity around him.

As always, the newcomers were immediately struck by the overwhelming ”youth” radiating from Might Guy.

A fine sheen of sweat appeared on Chōjūrō’s forehead, his anxiety almost tangible. Haku’s eyes widened for a brief moment before he settled back into calm acceptance.

Only Suigetsu muttered, ”This guy’s whole vibe is way too different from the Konoha ninja we saw before.”

Training continued, and the three newcomers were quickly pulled into its high-speed rhythm.

Neji simply completed his own drills as usual. To him, these changes were nothing more than small adjustments to the numbers in a training log—no real difference in essence.

When the session ended and Neji was about to leave, Guy called out to him.

”Neji.”

In the glow of the setting sun, the eyes beneath those thick eyebrows had shed their usual exaggerated smile and grown more solemn.

”Come with me for a moment.”

Guy waved him over and walked toward a secluded tree at the edge of the training field.

Neji followed in silence.

Under the tree’s shade, the heat lessened, and the chorus of cicadas seemed farther away. Guy spoke. ”The village… intends to conduct special training for a select few.”

”Normally, Academy students wouldn’t have the qualifications to approach this field.”

”But your talent has been acknowledged. And I personally believe that, in the current Special Training Class, besides Gaara of Sunagakure, only you are suited to touch that kind of training at this stage.”

Only then did Neji ask, ”Was that the purpose of Lord Roshi’s visit four days ago?”

Guy didn’t answer directly. He stroked his chin, and his words seemed to drift slightly. ”Neji, I obtained the qualifications to serve as a Jonin-sensei last year. For a long time after that, I often came to the Ninja Academy to observe the students.”

His voice slowed.

”I was searching—searching for a child who could inherit my youth, my beliefs, and my path.”

Neji replied, his tone flat, ”Rock Lee, right?”

”Uh!” Guy’s head snapped back, his eyes bulging. He even hopped a step away, jabbing a finger at Neji as he stammered, ”H-how did you know?!”

Neji let out a quiet sigh. He didn’t even need the Byakugan for this.

”In the Special Training Class, the only ones who would respond with full enthusiasm to the ’youth’ theory—aside from Atsui of Kumogakure and Deidara of Iwagakure—are Rock Lee. And those two are from other villages.”

”Cough... You’re as sharp as ever,” Guy muttered. Then his expression sobered again. ”Even so, Neji, since the village has entrusted you all to me for special training, even if it’s only for a limited time… to me, you are not just students.”

His gaze locked onto Neji’s, earnest and unwavering.

”You are my disciples.”

Under the shade, the dim yellow light slid slowly across Neji’s pale face. His fingers, hanging at his side, curled almost imperceptibly before he forced them to relax.

”So, before you move on to that deeper training, as your teacher, there are some things… I feel I have to say.”

Guy stepped forward, his tone more sincere than ever, carrying even a clumsy note of pleading. ”Neji.”

”Let it go.”

”Let go of… those things between you and the Hyuga Main House.”

From the distance came the occasional laughter of students leaving the training grounds.

In the fading light, Neji’s pale eyes were as cold as ice.

He had already buried his resentment deep within himself, using it only as fuel to keep moving forward. Was even that not enough?

”Is this a condition for participating in the new training?”

”No.”

Guy shook his head at once, his answer firm.

”This isn’t a condition from the village. It has nothing to do with the training plan itself.” He raised his hand and tapped his chest, his gaze honest and burning. ”This is a request from me, as a teacher, to a disciple I value—one I hope can go farther, whose path can be smoother, less burdened…”

”…a request I’m making.”

”Simply a personal request from me, Might Guy.”

—

Hokage’s Office.

Roshi leaned back on the sofa, a freshly compiled roster of the special training class spread across his hands.

The door stood open.

Footsteps approached from down the hall and stopped at the threshold.

Hiashi Hyuga’s figure appeared there. He wore a standard Konoha jonin vest, and on his left arm was an armband marking his position as Head of the Police Force Branch. His appearance was meticulous, every detail in place.

He didn’t step in immediately. Instead, he raised a hand and tapped the open doorframe twice with his knuckles, producing a crisp sound.

”Roshi-san.”

”Come in.”

Hiashi entered the room.

Roshi gestured for him to sit. Only then did the head of the Hyuga clan take a seat and begin his report.

”For this month, the routine patrol reports from the Venue District Branch, the records of abnormal incident responses, and the reserve personnel list for next month’s Joint Conference have all been compiled and submitted to Nara Shikaku for review.”

”Additionally, a draft for temporary security inspection procedures to counter the potential threat of the Spore Technique has been drawn up for the branch. It’s now awaiting your final approval.”

”Very efficient.” Roshi set the roster down on the coffee table. ”I’ll look at the draft tomorrow morning.”

Hiashi gave a slight nod. He sat in silence for a moment, then spoke again. ”Regarding the preliminary list for the ’Natural Energy Adaptation Training’… thank you for your consideration and nomination.”

Roshi studied him. ”The Police Force Branch is one of the most important defensive lines on Konoha’s outskirts.”

”The situations we’ll face in the future will only grow more complicated, far beyond the scope of regular public security. We need someone there who can stand at the very front—someone capable of handling unconventional incidents and sensing potential threats.”

His gaze dropped to the Konoha emblem on the armband wrapped around Hiashi’s arm.

”The branch needs that capability. Someone has to bear it.”

”Based on the current assessment of overall ability, status, and controllability, you—as the head of the Hyūga Clan and the one overseeing the branch—have been placed in the first batch of the observation and trial list.”

His tone held no flattery, only fact.

It wasn’t ”I chose you because you’re excellent,” but ”this position demands it, and right now, you’re the most suitable.”

Hiashi showed no hint of displeasure or wounded pride at the bluntness.

Instead, he bowed his head again—lower than before.

”I understand. I’ll make the necessary preparations.”

Roshi nodded. ”If you can’t do it, the village will need someone new.”

”Make those preparations as well.”

Hiashi fell silent, then bowed his head once more. ”Yes.”

He rose, gave a brief nod, and took his leave.

With no further instructions, he maintained his formal composure as he turned and slipped out, leaving the door open behind him. Light from the corridor stretched across the floor, then faded as his footsteps grew distant.

Roshi leaned back on the sofa, fingertips resting on the edge of the special training class roster.

His eyes drifted over the lines of ink without really seeing them. Outside the window, twilight slowly devoured the outline of the Hokage Rock.

He didn’t know how much time passed before footsteps sounded again in the corridor—heavier, more relaxed than Hiashi’s.

Tsunade strode into the room carrying a two-tiered lacquered food box. She spotted the figure on the sofa at a glance, took in the still-open door, and lifted an eyebrow.

”I ran into Hiashi downstairs on my way back.” She set the food box on the coffee table and lifted the lid, letting a wave of fragrant steam curl into the room. ”With that expression... Lord Roshi must have said something unpleasant again.”

Roshi laid the roster in his hand aside.

”Since Lady Tsunade is unwilling to do such things,” he said in a level tone, ”I’m the one who always has to play the villain.”

”Ha.” Tsunade let out a short laugh but didn’t rise to it. From the top tier of the food box, she took out two sets of bowls and chopsticks and arranged them on the table.

The bottom tier held a neatly partitioned bento. Each dish was placed with obvious care, colors balanced and appealing.

Roshi accepted the chopsticks, glanced down, and a rare trace of emotion flickered across his face.

”Oh my,” he murmured, ”this looks quite good.”

”After all, someone personally admitted to cultivating a persona of ’absurdly enjoying life.’” Tsunade poured herself a cup of tea, then slid another cup toward him. ”Naturally, the dining standards have risen accordingly. Thanks to a certain someone—even ordinary ninjas get this kind of treatment now. As Hokage, I can’t exactly eat too shabbily, can I?”

They fell silent and started to eat. The occasional clink of chopsticks against porcelain rang softly in the quiet room.

After a few bites, Tsunade spoke up again. ”Over at the Bureau, Kakashi has formally submitted an application to expand both venues and personnel. I’ve read the report; at its current scale, it’s clearly operating under overload.”

She picked up a piece of tempura. Rather than eat it, she went on. ”And the scope of what they’re handling keeps getting broader. The day-to-day work directly related to ’Joint Training’ is actually becoming a smaller and smaller share. The name no longer matches what they’re really doing.”

Roshi swallowed, took a sip of tea, and answered unhurriedly, ”Mhm. After the joint meeting, we’ll formally remove the words ’Joint Training.’ Affairs directly tied to the tournaments will be split off, and a specialized branch department will be set up to handle them.”

”Then we still need to expand.” Tsunade popped the tempura into her mouth and spoke as she chewed. ”Even if we split some of it off, the core functions and permanent staff will only increase, not decrease. The current offices and training grounds are already stretched to their limits.”

At that, Roshi replied in a relaxed tone, ”If it’s a rush job, we can send Yamato over.”

Tsunade’s chewing halted for a beat. She looked up at him, open disdain in her eyes. ”How exactly did Yamato offend you?”

”He didn’t. I’m only having him help when it’s a rush job,” Roshi said as if it were self-evident. ”The hardware has to keep up, after all.”

Tsunade snorted and let the matter drop, her silence serving as tacit approval.

—

After leaving the Hokage Building, Hiashi did not return to the Venue District. Instead, the clan head, who rarely came back just to give reports, headed straight for the Hyuga compound.

The guards at the gate straightened when they saw him, bowing respectfully. Hiashi gave them a brief nod and stepped inside.

He soon settled on the veranda of the main house, kneeling in quiet seiza.

Under his leadership, the Hyuga Clan had climbed to new heights. Hiashi felt no arrogance over it, but he could not deny the reality: it was an achievement—one born from the Hyuga seizing opportunities as the village grew and changed.

And precisely because of that, new crises would follow.

Their enemies’ methods had already moved beyond what the Byakugan alone could fully grasp. As the head of a main branch, he was obligated to find a way to respond.

He held no resentment toward Roshi’s warning. In his eyes, it had been an extremely lenient approach.

Roshi hadn’t issued a direct death order with a strict deadline. Instead, he had given Hiashi the chance to train in Senjutsu.

That, Hiashi could understand.

Just as years ago, he had understood that as the elder brother, he had to punish his younger brother, Hizashi, when Hizashi harbored murderous intent toward his daughter.

Just as, as Clan Head, he had to punish his nephew Neji when Neji directed murderous intent toward the Main House.

He could empathize with the resentment that grew in the Branch House. But he was also bound to use the Caged Bird Seal to warn them away from crossing lines that could not be crossed.

Such was the fate of those born into the Hyuga Clan.

Even though, now, he had begun to twist the rules in order to help his own children avoid that same fate.

Hinata was, in theory, no longer the heiress of the Main House. She had lost to her younger sister Hanabi in front of the clan.

And yet, she had not been branded with the Caged Bird Seal.

The reason he had put forward was simple: ”Hanabi is still too young.”

When he said this, the elders fell silent.

Hanabi was indeed too young—a three-year-old child whose talent was only beginning to show, whose future remained uncertain. The Main House carried a heavy burden. Time was needed for observation, for more trials. Deferring the decision was consistent with clan precedent.

No one voiced any objection.

Only Hiashi knew how much of that reasoning was a father’s unspoken selfishness.

A weak, eldest daughter.

An overly young second daughter.

Together, those two facts shielded Hinata.

Hizashi had not been so fortunate.

By then, Hiashi had already proven himself capable of inheriting the Main House. Hizashi’s own talent was sufficient to lead the Branch House and support his brother.

So there was no escape for him.

Hiashi still couldn’t say whether the choice made back then had been right or wrong.

Between him and Hizashi, there had never been any real difference in talent, temperament, or ability.

But between their children, the gap was glaring.

If Hizashi had been the one to inherit the Main House...

The thought had surfaced more than once. If Hizashi had been the head of the Main House and he a member of the Branch, then Neji would have become the undisputed successor. With that kind of genius leading them, the Hyuga Clan might have risen to an even higher standing.

The idea flickered through his mind, then was pushed down by reason.

There were no ”ifs.” Only the present.

And now, here he sat: clan head, leader of the branch house as well, and a name placed on the preliminary list for Senjutsu training.

Senjutsu. Natural Energy. An unknown field.

He didn’t know whether the Byakugan could be used effectively in that process, or whether his long-settled body could adapt to such power.

If he failed to master it... the Hyuga Clan would need another path. Either a new, suitable candidate would have to appear within the Main House, or they would have to bring in someone from outside with those abilities, bind that person to the Hyuga, and have them serve under the Branch.

Given the Hyuga’s steady loyalty and caution, the village might be willing to wait.

But how long would that patience last?

Once the village opened up new paths of cultivation, its overall strength would surely leap ahead. At that point, as a ninja clan, the Byakugan would become replaceable, but as a prestigious clan, the Hyuga would also need a corresponding, iconic figure standing at the top.

If he couldn’t be that person, and the promising Hanabi was still too young... Neji.

That name rose unbidden in Hiashi’s mind.

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