Chapter 151: Hyuga, Go Fish Out the Kaguya Clan

"How did it go?" "Surgery was a success. Both patients are stable. Even if there’s rejection, we can reverse the procedure without risk." Such was the advantage of medical ninjutsu. Kyohiko noted it silently. "Thank you, thank you!" Gekkō Buraku bowed repeatedly, his voice thick with gratitude. As the head of the Gekkō clan, his skills were formidable—at least jōnin-level. Yet. For all his status, he had been powerless to cure his son, to grant him the chance to live as a true shinobi. Now, that dream was realized. How could he not rejoice? Even if the cost was his wife’s career as a kunoichi— With a portion of her lungs removed, high-intensity missions would be impossible. Of course. Had his wife’s tissue been incompatible, Buraku wouldn’t have hesitated to offer his own. Still. As he watched the boy before him, a mix of awe and disbelief swelled in his chest. Who could have imagined that this solution—one conceived by a teenager not even specialized in medical ninjutsu—would succeed? And that his skills would earn Tsunade’s approval? Such talent was nothing short of staggering. After thanking Tsunade profusely, Buraku hurried back to Kyohiko, lowering his voice. "Kyohiko, does the ANBU need extra hands today? If so, the Gekkō clan can spare a few." "Not for now. But the academy is short on kenjutsu instructors. Would your clan be willing to guide the students?" Kyohiko clarified—they weren’t expected to divulge clan secrets, just basic instruction. "Of course! Serving the village is our duty!" Buraku exhaled inwardly in relief. Their clan had no shortage of blade masters, including retired jōnin whose prime years had passed. This arrangement was more than acceptable—it might even benefit them. "Pleasure doing business." Kyohiko smiled faintly. As Buraku departed, Kyohiko reflected on his motives. Helping Gekkō Hayate served two purposes: First, the boy’s Transparency tecnique held potential. Second, securing the loyalty of Gekkō Buraku—and by extension, Tsunade’s faction—was strategic. Kyohiko wasn’t naive. His youth, despite his achievements, meant some jōnin and tokubetsu jōnin still doubted him. Loyalty required both favors and firmness. —— Late Afternoon, Konoha Gates Sarutobi Asuma, Ebisu, and Might Gai trudged behind Maruboshi Kosuke, returning from their latest mission. Their team had undergone multiple reshuffles, but one thing remained unchanged— They were still stuck with C-ranks and below. Even with a chunin now in their ranks. "Sensei, when do we get to take B-ranks?" "Hah! B-ranks mean combat against enemy shinobi. That’s no joke. You’ll need at least a year of C-ranks first." Kosuke’s grin didn’t soften the blow. Asuma’s shoulders slumped. A whole year. Rumors said Kyohiko’s squad had graduated to C-ranks within months—then skipped B-ranks entirely, diving straight into A-ranks. The gap was infuriating. Gai, tempered by two years of experience, just chuckled. "Asuma, B-ranks are no joke. We could handle them, but the risk is high. More importantly—" "What?" "Post-war, high-rank missions are scarce. Where would we even find them?" Gai’s logic was impeccable. Asuma had no rebuttal. Back at the academy, Gai had been mediocre in everything but taijutsu. Now? The guy had evolved into a monster. Regret gnawed at Asuma. If I’d graduated earlier, would I be like him now? Ebisu, silent until now, finally spoke as they entered the village. "Asuma, don’t beat yourself up." "Is it that obvious?" Asuma glanced nervously at Kosuke and Gai ahead. Thankfully, neither turned around. Ebisu smirked. Obvious? You might as well wear a sign. "Gai was on Kyohiko’s squad. Trained under two elite jōnin—Kyohiko and Namikaze—with Kakashi as a teammate. Of course he improved fast." "They were the cream of the crop." A pause. Then Ebisu added, "Though... the Sandaime is your father. You could ask him for training. As the ’Professor,’ few surpass him in ninjutsu." "I don’t need his help to become strong!" Asuma’s tone turned icy. He sped ahead without another word. Ebisu winced. Right. Kid’s allergic to mentions of the Hokage. He moved to follow, but Asuma had already dismissed himself from Kosuke and vanished into the streets. Ebisu sighed. —— Asuma wasn’t angry at Ebisu. He was angry at himself. "If I were stronger... If my talent wasn’t so—" "If I were you, I’d apologize to Ebisu." The voice came out of nowhere. Asuma stiffened. Then he whirled toward the rooftop on his right. Kyohiko dropped down, dressed in casual attire—no ANBU armor in sight. "What do you want?" Asuma looked away. Kyohiko shrugged. "We don’t actually have a grudge. Our ’rivalry’ is over Kurenai’s friendship—which, by the way, isn’t yours to dictate." A beat of silence. Then Asuma nodded stiffly. "Fine. But I don’t have to like you." "Good. I’m not here to be friends. Shinnosuke-senpai asked me to train you. If you want to get strong enough to shove it in your old man’s face, follow me." Kyohiko turned and walked toward the village outskirts. Asuma’s fists clenched. The truth was, he didn’t dislike Kyohiko. The guy was a rival—a benchmark to surpass. But the Sandaime? That was real hatred. It took Asuma all of one second to decide. He followed. —— Kyohiko’s Training Ground "This is it?" "Yep." In the corner stood a neglected rack holding two dozen sandbags. Once crucial for honing Kyohiko’s reflexes, they’d been gathering dust since his speed surpassed their utility. But for Asuma? They were perfect. After setting them up, Kyohiko demonstrated. He even blindfolded himself. The sandbags flew in chaotic arcs—yet Kyohiko weaved through them like a leaf on the wind, striking each with pinpoint precision. Asuma’s jaw dropped. Blindfolded? Like this? This isn’t training—it’s art. "Got it?" "Easy!" Asuma’s bravado lasted precisely one second before a sandbag sent him stumbling. Two seconds later, he was flat on his back. "In combat, speed is everything. Start with three or four bags. Add more as you improve. Then try it blindfolded—train your ears, not just your eyes." Kyohiko dusted himself off. "Practice. I’ll be reading." Asuma finally understood why his brother had sent him here. Because— This guy doesn’t just teach. He transforms you. Kyohiko’s talent and abilities hadn’t erupted overnight—they were forged through relentless training, honed slowly into what they were now. When it came to speed and reflexes, no one understood their cultivation better than him. Shinnosuke must have paid a considerable price to secure this training. For the sake of an elder brother who’d sacrificed so much, Asuma couldn’t afford to falter or give up. He took a deep breath and stepped forward again. Bring it on! He refused to be defeated by mere sandbags. For the entire afternoon, the rhythmic thuds of sandbags filled the air. Most, of course, were the sounds of Asuma getting pummeled. This training was only the foundation. Next would come blindfolded drills to sharpen his hearing, followed by evading thrown weapons. Asuma still had a long, long way to go. —— The young Sarutobi was full of ideas, but against the sandbags, he was utterly helpless. Days passed. At first, Kyohiko supervised from home, but soon Asuma arrived before dawn each morning, training unprompted. The thudding became a constant backdrop. Meanwhile, Kyohiko researched advanced applications of his "Smoke Transformation." The Iburi clan’s partial records and their hereditary jutsu manuals now lay before him. Crude, admittedly. Most techniques were haphazard developments around their innate abilities—none addressed the bloodline’s fatal flaw. But their kekkei genkai allowed smoke-based mind control. His version was a secret technique, not identical, but the underlying principles aligned. Kyohiko pondered whether refinement could achieve similar effects. Progress wasn’t nonexistent— He could now etch Flying Thunder God seals remotely through smoke. And then there was... A cloud of smoke hovered before him. With a palm thrust, he unleashed a fierce gust— Beast Wave Palm! Yet the cloud held its form, undisturbed. This was the effect of senjutsu chakra. Even a trace amount, evenly dispersed, granted the smoke cohesion. For pure ninjutsu enhancement, senjutsu is optimal. But could the Iburi clan wield senjutsu? He dismissed the thought immediately. Smoke wasn’t like plants. It couldn’t harmonize with nature. Worse, natural energy might destabilize their bodies mid-transformation—a death sentence. Their historical records proved this; many deaths stemmed from internal energy collapse. Senjutsu was untenable. That left the second path—core reinforcement. Kyohiko formed another smoke cloud, this time compressing chakra into a dense, gray nucleus—a granular sphere of solidified particles. But— Whoosh! The smoke streaked through the window, half-dispersed by the crosswind. Moments later, only the core remained. Still not right. Perhaps prolonged tempering is needed? If the Iburi merely required stability, a permanently condensed chakra core might suffice. Worth testing. —— A week blurred by. Between Asuma’s drills and ANBU duties, Kyohiko stayed busy—but Shinnosuke’s assistance eased the load. Breakthroughs came in acupoint research. His shadow clones and Orochimaru, aided by Hyūga Hizashi, had discovered new chakra nodes beyond the Eight Gates—some enhanced muscle strength, others accelerated injury recovery. A few nodes even had unique effects, though only Hyūga could utilize them. Hizashi was elated. Yet beneath his joy simmered unease. Hiashi’s promised reforms remained unfulfilled. Was his brother stalling deliberately to keep him compliant? Trust didn’t come easily when dealing with the clan head. Hizashi, you seem distracted. Orochimaru’s voice slithered through the lab. Family matters? Take leave if needed. Our research can wait. Kyohiko nodded agreement. Their findings were already compiled into reports, pending village approval for wider application. The system notification glowed in Kyohiko’s vision: [Under your leadership, a comprehensive chakra node map has been developed—revolutionizing medical and shinobi practices.] [Reputation increased! Villagers adore you!] [Reward: "Tenketsu Strike" & "Yin Healing Wound Destruction" proficiency upgraded.] Two upgrades. A fair return on their efforts. Hizashi shook his head. Personal trifles. Nothing consequential. Rest today, Kyohiko suggested. We await the Hokage’s response anyway. "...Very well." Hizashi acquiesced, deciding to visit the Hyūga compound—to think, to observe. Orochimaru’s eyes gleamed as the door closed. "Kyohiko-kun, what troubles him, do you think?" "Hyūga politics, likely." The division between main and branch families ran deeper than most realized. Hizashi’s competence and twin status with Hiashi created... complications. Left unchecked, that tension might explain Hiashi’s later decision to sacrifice Hizashi—less village loyalty, more calculated consolidation of power. The caged bird seal ensured no branch member could rebel. "An outsider can hardly intervene, Orochimaru mused." "True. Yet..." The sannin’s gaze turned icy. "I despise stagnant clans. Stagnant waters appear eternal—until the sun bakes them dry." Kyohiko chuckled. "Hiashi wants change but fears its consequences." Then inspiration struck. "Aren’t the Hyūga allied with the Kaguya clan in Water Country?" "Indeed. Shared ancestry, it’s said." "Intel suggests the Kaguya are struggling under Mizukage’s rule. Could the Hyūga... extract them?" Kyohiko’s eyes sharpened. "More intriguing—what offspring might emerge from Hyūga and Kaguya unions? A throwback to their progenitor?" Orochimaru stilled. "The Kaguya’s Shikotsumyaku..." "A physical kekkei genkai," Kyohiko continued. "No conflict with the Byakugan. Might even counterbalance each other." Recognition flashed in Orochimaru’s eyes. "Ah. The bone density research from Land of Rivers..." A slow, serpentine smile spread. "This... could work."