The days following the branding passed in a strange, muted haze.
Renji woke before dawn as always, but now the world felt heavier, quieter… edged with an unfamiliar pulse beneath his skin. Even in sleep, the seal throbbed faintly, like a second heartbeat that did not belong to him.
He rose from his thin bedding, fingers brushing the white blindfold resting beside his pillow. The fabric was soft—Hyūga cloth always was—but knowing why he had to wear it made the softness feel like mockery.
He tied the blindfold across his eyes and forehead, wrapping it securely until the cursed markings were completely hidden.
The world dimmed into soft shadows…
But through his Byakugan, he still saw everything.
Walls transparent.
Chakra threads glowing like pale rivers.
Servants moving through corridors.
Hinata still asleep in her room, curled like a small trembling ball beneath her blanket.
Hanabi stirring faintly as the nurse adjusted her position.
Renji exhaled.
His life had changed. Irreversibly.
But his duties had not.
He stepped into the courtyard with practiced silence, sweeping fallen leaves from the stone path. Every few minutes, a faint pulse ran through the seal at his forehead—sharp, electric, irritating. It felt like a reminder.
A reminder of obedience.
A reminder of ownership.
A reminder that he no longer belonged even to himself.
A passing branch member paused mid-step upon noticing him.
"Covering your eyes now?" the boy snorted. "Trying to look mysterious?"
Renji bowed. "I apologize if it offends you."
"It does." The boy smirked. "Just looking at you offends me."
Another servant walking behind the boy flinched—fear, sympathy, or both. But no one said anything. No one ever did.
Renji simply continued sweeping.
He didn't mind the insults. What frightened him more was the sudden tug he felt from the seal—an involuntary spark that jolted across his nerves, like a tiny electric shock.
He stumbled slightly.
What was that…?
He reached inward with his chakra.
A faint connection pulsed from somewhere near the inner residence.
Hinata.
Her chakra stirred—uncertain, trembling, emotional. The seal reacted to her distress like a tuning fork catching resonance. His breath caught.
So… even her feelings affected it.
That meant—
He swallowed.
He needed to avoid upsetting her.
At all costs.
A servant girl hurried past, bowing politely. She had seen his misstep and misinterpreted it.
"Are you… unwell?" she whispered.
Renji straightened immediately. "No. I am fine."
"You don't look fine. And your eyes—"
The girl stopped herself, glancing nervously around the courtyard.
"I mean… your blindfold…"
Renji gave a small, forced smile.
"It is just cloth."
"Still… if you need anything—"
A sharp voice interrupted.
"Get back to your duties."
The girl stiffened and hurried away.
Renji lowered his head.
Kindness was dangerous in the Hyūga clan. For both sides.
Later that morning, he was summoned to the training grounds.
His steps were slow—each movement calibrated to avoid disturbing the healing soreness beneath the blindfold—but he arrived promptly, kneeling at the edge as several branch members trained.
The training instructor glanced at him. "Stand there. Do not interfere."
Renji bowed. "Yes."
He watched as the trainees practiced basic Jūken strikes. Their forms were rigid but careful—branch children were disciplined, even if lacking refinement.
His Byakugan activated automatically under the blindfold, the chakra pathways of each trainee glowing faintly. Their rotations were sloppy. Their stances uneven. It would take at least three more months for them to reach stability.
Renji exhaled silently.
He shouldn't be analyzing them.
Not now.
Not after the seal.
But his body understood the movements instinctively.
"Renji."
He flinched and bowed immediately as the instructor approached. "Yes, Instructor."
The man looked him over. "Lift your head."
"I… am not allowed—"
"Lift your head," the instructor repeated sharply. "The blindfold prevents you from offending anyone."
Renji obeyed, raising his chin just enough.
The instructor studied the blindfold, the faint outline of the seal beneath it, the exhaustion hidden beneath Renji's expression.
"You were branded recently," he said. "Does it hinder you?"
Renji hesitated.
"…No."
A lie.
The instructor sighed. "You endure too much for your age. The main branch pushes you too hard."
Renji blinked.
Was that sympathy?
Before he could respond, the instructor continued:
"But… that is no excuse to lose discipline." His tone hardened. "You sat incorrectly during morning assembly yesterday."
Renji bowed. "I apologize."
"You must maintain posture at all times. A servant of the heiresses must never show weakness."
Weakness.
The word echoed bitterly through Renji's mind.
But he nodded anyway. "I will correct it."
"Good. Now stand with them."
Renji froze.
"With… them?"
The instructor pointed toward the line of branch trainees.
"Yes. You will serve as their moving target."
Renji felt cold.
He had done this before—standing still while trainees practiced controlled strikes near his body—but today…
Today, his body was not steady.
Today, the seal still pulsed painfully.
Today, he was wearing a blindfold.
But refusing was impossible.
"Yes," he whispered.
He stepped forward.
The branch trainees looked irritated.
"Why him?"
"He'll probably fall over."
"Maybe we should test the seal—see if he reacts funny."
"Don't joke about that. Elders get angry."
Renji took his place, feet planted, arms at his sides.
The instructor commanded, "Do not strike him. Strike around him. Maintain precision."
The trainees nodded.
The first one stepped forward, thrusting a palm strike that grazed Renji's shoulder by a hair's breadth.
The second circled behind him and struck the air just near his spine.
The third jabbed near his cheek—
And stopped.
Because as he struck, Renji shifted instinctively—subtle, perfect, fluid—just enough to avoid contact but not enough to break orders.
The trainee hesitated.
Renji's body moved with instinctive Jūken grace. Movements he should not know. Movements he was forbidden to know.
The instructor's eyes narrowed.
Renji forced his body to stillness again.
Another trainee stepped in, faster than the others, eager to impress. His chakra flared slightly as he thrust a palm toward Renji's ribs—
Too fast.
Renji reacted before thinking.
His foot slid half a step back, his torso twisted, and his hand raised to deflect the incoming strike—
Perfect Jūken form.
The trainee gasped.
The instructor froze.
Renji's heart dropped.
He had moved.
Not as a servant.
Not as a target.
As a Hyūga.
As something he was not allowed to be.
The instructor's voice sliced through the air.
"Renji."
"Yes…" Renji whispered.
"Do you understand what you just did?"
He lowered his head, trembling.
"…Yes."
"That movement is forbidden."
"I… understand."
The instructor exhaled deeply.
"You leave me no choice."
Renji braced himself.
"Go to the discipline hall. Now."
He bowed quickly, hiding the sting in his chest.
"Yes."
As he walked away, one of the trainees whispered:
"That blindfold won't hide what he is."
Another replied:
"No… but soon the seal will."
Renji kept walking.
Every step felt heavier than the last.
Not because of the punishment waiting for him—
—but because he knew something darker:
The more he tried to stay unnoticed…
the more the clan noticed him.
And the seal now pulsed with every heartbeat, reacting to every shift of emotion from Hinata and Hanabi.
His chains had become alive.
And the Hyūga clan was not finished tightening them.
The discipline hall was colder than usual.
Renji knelt in the center of the tatami floor, blindfold secured across his eyes, shoulders squared, back painfully erect despite the soreness that lingered from the branding. The silence pressed in around him—still, suffocating, expectant.
He waited.
He didn't know who would come.
He didn't know what punishment they would choose.
He didn't know how harshly they viewed what happened on the training ground.
But he did know one thing:
The Hyūga clan despised transgression.
And a servant moving like a Hyūga prodigy—
was the worst transgression of all.
Footsteps echoed.
Slow. Firm. Controlled.
Renji kept his head bowed as the sliding door opened.
The instructor entered first, followed by a branch elder with a stern expression and a ceremonial staff.
Renji's breath trembled softly behind the blindfold.
Not the worst elder.
But not one known for mercy.
The instructor stood behind Renji, arms folded.
"Report," the elder said.
The instructor bowed. "He instinctively adopted a Jūken defensive form when struck at close range."
The elder's lips thinned.
"Defensive forms are restricted to the clan's children and soldiers. A servant—especially a servant of his birth—has no right to use such techniques."
Renji bowed lower. "I apologize. My body moved without thought. I meant no—"
"You meant nothing," the elder cut sharply. "Because nothing is what you are in the clan's hierarchy."
Renji lowered his head further.
"I understand."
The elder circled him slowly.
"So… instinctive talent. Movement embedded in the body. A memory he was never taught."
He tapped the staff lightly against the floor.
"Unacceptable."
Renji felt coldness spread through his limbs.
"You were warned yesterday, were you not?" the elder continued. "The clan will not tolerate deviation."
"Yes," Renji whispered.
"And still you disobeyed."
"I… did not intend—"
"That is the problem. You do not need to intend it."
Renji swallowed.
"I will correct myself," he said, voice calm despite the tremor under it. "I will train my body to remain still."
"No," the elder said.
Renji froze.
"No training. No correction. No technique," the elder said. "You will not train at all."
A pause.
Renji lowered his head. "…Yes."
The instructor gave him a sad, fleeting glance—gone before the elder noticed.
But the elder wasn't finished.
"You will stand," he ordered.
Renji obeyed.
The elder moved behind him.
"Extend your arms."
Renji hesitated only a second.
Then raised his arms outward, palms open, posture perfectly steady. The position stretched the sore muscles of his shoulders and back, but he did not waver.
"Do not lower them until instructed."
Renji's breath exhaled quietly. "Yes."
The elder stepped back.
"Begin the strike pattern."
The instructor paused. "…Elder, he is still recovering from the ritual. His body—"
"Begin."
The instructor sighed, resigned, and took a stance behind Renji.
Renji steadied himself.
The first strike came without warning.
A firm, controlled strike of chakra to Renji's shoulder—avoiding lethal points but hitting hard enough to jolt his balance.
He clenched his fists unconsciously.
The elder snapped, "Hands open."
Renji forced his fingers apart.
Another strike—this time to the ribs.
He inhaled sharply, but arms remained lifted.
A third, lighter strike near his back—more of a warning than punishment.
"Your posture is wavering," the elder said.
Renji exhaled through clenched teeth, steadying himself again.
Minutes passed.
Then ten.
Then twenty.
By the time the punishment ended, sweat dripped down his back, mixing with the residual burn of the branding seal. His arms felt like burning iron, trembling despite his efforts.
Finally, the elder spoke.
"Enough."
Renji lowered his arms slowly, carefully.
The instructor stepped forward and whispered, almost too softly, "Endure. Quietly."
Renji nodded once.
The elder lifted his staff.
"The clan will monitor you even more strictly from this point onward. Any display of talent beyond your station will be punished more severely."
"I understand," Renji murmured.
The elder moved closer, voice low.
"You are bound to the heiresses. Their safety and emotional stability outrank your life. Remember this: if either child is distressed, you will feel it through the seal."
Renji stiffened.
So that strange pulse that morning—
"Yes," the elder said. "The seal responds to the emotions and chakra output of Lady Hinata and Lady Hanabi. You would do well not to cause them distress."
He stepped back.
"You are dismissed."
Renji bowed deeply.
"Yes, Elder."
After punishment, Renji was not immediately reassigned chores—an unusual kindness. Or perhaps simply caution. The branding had been recent, after all.
He returned to the eastern corridor, moving slowly but carefully, mindful of how every step tugged at the lashes of pain echoing through his muscles.
He sat beside a bucket of water and rinsed a cloth, cleaning the floor where bare feet often passed. As he worked, the faint scent of jasmine drifted into the hallway.
Soft footsteps approached.
Renji recognized them instantly.
Hinata.
She appeared at the far end of the hall, hands clasped nervously in front of her. Her eyes widened the moment she saw him.
"R-Renji… you're still working?" she whispered.
He bowed. "It is my duty, Lady Hinata."
"But you just had… you just… t-the seal—"
She couldn't even finish the sentence.
Renji lifted the wet cloth again.
"It has already healed enough."
"That's not true," Hinata said softly, stepping closer. "I… I can see your hands shaking."
Renji froze.
He lowered his head further.
"I apologize."
"D-Don't apologize! Th-that's not… what I meant…"
Her voice trembled with guilt.
Renji felt it through the seal—a faint pulse, subtle but unmistakable. Hinata's distress tugged at the binding, echoing as discomfort through his own chakra network.
So this is what the elder meant.
Hinata looked at his blindfold with sadness, her fingers curling tightly around her sleeves.
"Because of me… you have to wear that now…"
Renji said nothing.
"It's not fair," she whispered.
Silence filled the corridor.
Finally, Renji forced himself to speak.
"Lady Hinata… I am grateful."
She blinked. "G-Grateful?"
"For your kindness," Renji said. "It means more to me than anything this clan has given."
Hinata's breath caught.
Before she could respond, footsteps approached. Her attendant.
Hinata's eyes widened in panic.
"R-Renji… I'll come again. Please… rest, okay?"
Then she hurried away before her attendant caught sight of her lingering too close to him.
Renji watched her go through the blindfold, Byakugan tracing her trembling chakra.
She shouldn't care this much.
It would hurt her.
And it would hurt him.
And yet…
He couldn't help the warmth in his chest.
Warmth he wasn't allowed to feel.
That night, Renji cleaned his small room, folded his bedding, and sat cross-legged, palms resting on his knees.
He focused on breathing—slow, controlled.
The seal pulsed.
He felt Hinata's faint emotional waves from across the compound—uneasy, guilty, restless.
Hanabi's chakra flickered softly. Content. Curious. Innocent.
Renji laid a hand over the blindfold, feeling the heat beneath it.
"Even my thoughts… are not mine anymore," he whispered.
Outside, the wind rustled the bamboo.
Renji inhaled.
He exhaled.
And accepted the truth of his existence:
A servant.
A shadow.
A cage-bound protector.
And though he did not know it…
The world outside the Hyūga compound was about to pull him slowly, inevitably, toward a future none of the elders had prepared for.
A future where bonds stronger than seals would begin to form.
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