Chapter 46 – The Hyūga Funeral
When they returned to the village, life carried on as if nothing had happened.
Shinobi from the various clans drifted back to their own compounds—Shimura Yū after giving a brief report, Hyūga Haining, and Senju Nawaki as well.
A shinobi was first a member of their clan, and only then a shinobi of the village.
Minamoto Ren bid them farewell one by one, and to his comrades in the Okada Squad of the Anbu, he offered quiet condolences.
After all, Hyūga Ganghachirō had been a good man—likable, capable, and kind.
But he was gone now.
Such was the life of a shinobi: no matter how beautiful the dreams one held in life, in death they would all be buried in the same cold earth.
"Minato—two days from now, dinner's on me. You pick the place."
Ren called out to Namikaze Minato just as he was about to weave a hand seal and vanish, making sure the man didn't forget.
The golden-haired Minato gave a small nod, then disappeared in a flicker.
Little Sun… Fourth Hokage-to-be. Hiruzen's going to have a real headache with you around.
Ren shook his head in silence.
Minato was never good at hiding his emotions. In the original timeline, he'd grown rapidly into the Fourth Hokage, yet his temperament had barely changed.
But now, thanks to Ren's presence, both of them had faced Danzo's most intense malice and persecution—
And Danzo, after all, wore the same pair of pants as Hiruzen Sarutobi.
Unite every force that can be united. The goal isn't just to take down Danzo—
The real goal is to take down Hiruzen.
Ren stood lazily, malice flickering in his eyes.
A moment later, he yawned, rubbed his eyes, and made a hand seal to go home.
The world could burn tomorrow—tonight, he'd sleep.
Even a power struggle had to wait until after a good night's rest.
---
The next morning, Ren reported to the Anbu as usual.
Given his squad captain rank, he should have reported to the division commander…
Instead, he was shown directly to Hatake Sakumo.
They'd met before, but seeing Sakumo here in the Anbu headquarters was different.
He was the only Anbu operative who didn't wear a mask, his short blade strapped across his back.
There was no point hiding his face—his identity was unshakable, impossible to ignore.
Because he was Kage-level. In this war-torn era brimming with prodigies, the name of "White Fang" alone could suppress entire battlefields.
From Ren's estimation, White Fang's strength was on par with Hanzō of the Salamander—one of those rare individuals capable of singlehandedly dominating a region.
The difference was that Sakumo was a pure soldier who followed orders, while Hanzō's political role was far more complicated.
"Lord White Fang, reporting in."
Ren stood at attention. No unnecessary chatter. He didn't know Sakumo personally—best to keep things businesslike.
Sakumo's sharp eyes lingered on Ren's mask for a moment, then his severe expression softened.
"Hannya, Anbu protocol dictates that all shinobi who complete high-level missions get three days of rest. No assignments for now—go enjoy yourself in the village."
After a brief pause, Sakumo added, "The daimyō hopes you and Sun will… expand the family tree. That's also the Hokage's wish. As a shinobi, you should keep that mission in mind."
"Yes, sir."
Behind the mask, Ren's face nearly cracked in disbelief.
Marriage… as an official mission?
Only problem was, the only woman he had regular contact with was his teacher, Lady Tsunade!
"Go on." Sakumo waved him off casually and lowered his gaze back to the scroll on his desk.
Leaving the Anbu headquarters, Ren removed his mask and wandered the streets of Konoha like a bored youth.
Truth be told, ever since arriving in this world, he'd been consumed with life-or-death matters and had never really taken the time to appreciate it.
Three days of freedom would be more than enough to walk the entire village.
For the next few days, Minamoto Ren had no intention of training.
His strength was already firmly planted at the elite jōnin level; breaking through any further would take years of time, effort, and patience.
As he wandered through the streets, he thought about heading home to change into something nicer.
Anbu missions were always done in durable, dirt-resistant gear—not exactly the right look for a casual stroll.
And with winter having settled over Konoha, he could already picture himself in a scarf against a white snowy backdrop… maybe red, maybe khaki—
Hm? What's this?
Humming to himself, Ren stopped at his doorstep.
A pure white envelope sat there.
Tearing it open, his eyes swept over the letter in quick, practiced glances.
The lighthearted expression faded from his face, replaced by calm seriousness.
Without a word, he stepped inside to change.
When he came back out, the outfit he had imagined earlier was gone.
Now, he wore nothing but white.
The letter was from the Hyūga clan, inviting him to attend the funeral of Hyūga Ganghachirō.
The wording was polite but cool—much like the clan's distant presence within the village.
The Hyūga had always been a headache for Ren when it came to finding an opening.
He had long wanted to get involved in their internal power plays, but there was never a clean way in.
The clan was simply too closed off.
On the surface, they seemed loyal to the Hokage, but in truth, they followed only the will of the Main House—a will summed up in one word: stability.
And stability, to Ren's mind, was no different from isolationism.
Unless the Hokage gave a direct order, the Hyūga rarely involved themselves in village affairs.
Yet they were too large a force to be ignored.
Ganghachirō's death… maybe this is my chance to approach Haining's father—Hyūga Yokohachirō—and hear what he's thinking.
Decision made, Ren formed a hand seal and sprinted toward the Hyūga compound.
Ten minutes later, he stood beneath the eaves before a grand, shrine-like gate—a testament to the clan's wealth and standing.
From within came the faint, mournful strains of a biwa.
The Hyūga were already deep into the funeral rites.
Without hesitation, Ren stepped forward, white letter in hand.
The guards at the gate were not foolish enough to block his way.
Inside the compound, the space actually felt smaller.
Like the design of a Japanese torii, it was large outside but constricted within—and with so many clan members, personal space was scarce.
An attendant appeared before Ren in an instant, bowed respectfully, and beckoned him to follow.
After weaving through several narrow turns, they stopped before a set of sliding doors where the biwa's lament was loudest.
From inside came the sound of weeping—men and women both—along with the distinctive wailing of Hyūga Haining.
Ren's expression grew solemn as he slid the door open.
The attendant, having completed his duty, vanished silently.
The courtyard beyond was unlike the restrained, severe style of the Hyūga architecture he'd seen on the way.
Here, it was livelier, more ornate—and filled with cats and dogs.
Few people had come to pay respects to Ganghachirō, but among them were many shinobi from outside the clan.
Ren took in the scene at a glance.
Ganghachirō had clearly been an outlier among the Hyūga: active in village affairs, friends with shinobi from all over, and far less involved in the clan's own politics.
"Ren-nii."
Hyūga Haining's tear-swollen eyes, pink and puffy like ripe peaches, turned toward him.
He rose to greet him.
Ren gave a slight nod but let his gaze shift to the middle-aged man kneeling before Ganghachirō's memorial tablet.
That, no doubt, was Hyūga Yokohachirō—Haining's father, Ganghachirō's elder brother, and a member the Main House of the Hyūga clan.
---