A New Path

The tension in the air was palpable.

Rock Lee had just been taken away on a stretcher, and though Gaara stood victorious, there was an unspoken weight in the room. A few minutes had passed since the match had ended, but the sight of Lee’s broken body haunted the minds of those watching. Even the more hardened shinobi in the stands found themselves struggling to shake it off.

Sasuke's fists were clenched. Naruto gritted his teeth. Sakura folded her arms tightly. Harry, though still, felt his stomach churn. Even Kakashi had grown uncharacteristically quiet, his usual eye smile absent beneath the weight of what had just transpired.

And then the screen flickered.

Hinata Hyūga vs. Neji Hyūga

The stillness shattered.

Naruto’s head snapped toward the screen. “Hinata?” he muttered in disbelief.

Sasuke’s eyes narrowed at the name beside hers. Neji Hyūga. He’d seen glimpses of the guy before, seen his cold, calculated movements during the written test. But what stood out to Sasuke now wasn’t just Neji’s presence—it was the way he looked at Hinata.

Like she was nothing.

Neji was already descending the steps, his movements unhurried, like he had all the time in the world. Hinata took a steady breath before following. Her expression, at first glance, was soft—uncertain, even. But her hands were steady at her sides, and her pale eyes held a quiet resolve as she stepped onto the battlefield.

Shino, standing with his hands tucked in his coat, barely moved. "This is unfavorable for Hinata," he murmured. "Neji is a prodigy."

Kurenai frowned beside him, her fingers tightening over her arms. "That may be true, but Hinata is stronger than she appears."

Tenten sighed, crossing her arms as she watched from the balcony. "Neji isn't just strong. He’s ruthless."

Might Guy, standing beside her, had his arms folded across his chest. But his usual enthusiasm was gone. “This is not a fight that should be happening,” he said grimly.

Below, the tension thickened.

Hinata met Neji’s gaze, and at that moment, she knew what this fight meant to him.

She knew why he despised her.

She had discovered the truth by her mentor, she took the cloth off of Hinata's eyes and revealed the truth to her. She learned about the seal that bound him to the branch family, the fate that had been placed upon him since birth. He had lost his father to this system—his freedom taken before he could even grasp it.

How could she not understand his hatred? But she didn’t meet his loathing with resentment. She wasn’t angry. She wasn’t here to be a victim.

She was here to prove something—not just to him, but to herself. One day, when she became the Hyūga clan’s leader, she would end this cycle. She swore it.

Neji’s expression was impassive, but the coldness in his gaze cut through her like a blade. “Hinata-sama,” he said mockingly, the honorific filled with nothing but disdain. “You should forfeit now. This is a battle you cannot win.”

Hinata straightened her back, forcing herself not to waver under his words. “I will not forfeit.”

Neji’s pale eyes darkened. “Then I will show you the difference between us.”

In the stands, Naruto’s hands were gripping the railing so tightly his knuckles had turned white. “What’s his deal?! Why’s he acting like that toward Hinata?”

Sasuke exhaled through his nose. “Tch. You wouldn’t get it,” he muttered. But his own hands were clenched.

Naruto scowled at him. “And you do?”

Sasuke didn’t answer right away. But as he stared down at Neji, something about the way the older Hyūga glared at Hinata made his chest tighten. He knows what it’s like. That hatred. That anger. Sasuke had felt it before. Felt it when he saw him.

Itachi.

The man who killed everyone he had ever loved. The man who took everything away from him. No. Neji wasn’t looking at Hinata like she was an enemy. He was looking at her like she was the reason he had lost something.

Sakura bit her lip. “This isn’t just a match for them.”

Harry nodded in agreement, his emerald gaze sharp. "It's something much deeper."

Down below, Hayate raised a hand. “Begin.”

Neji’s stance shifted instantly, fluid and refined. His Byakugan was already active.

Hinata mirrored the stance, her own Byakugan igniting.

Then, in the blink of an eye—they clashed.

Neji struck first. His form was flawless—a perfect execution of the Gentle Fist. His fingers moved like knives, precise and deadly, aiming for Hinata’s chakra points with a sharpness that promised pain.

But she matched him. The first few strikes should have been overwhelming and should have forced her back. That was the Hyūga way. The weaker ones submitted, the stronger ones reigned. Except—Hinata did not retreat. She flowed with Neji’s attacks, shifting like water, her movements delicate yet firm, her own fingers striking forward in perfect retaliation.

Neji’s eyes narrowed slightly. That wasn’t expected.

Not from her. Not from the girl who had been deemed too soft, too weak—unfit to be the heir of the Hyūga. His surprise was minimal. It didn’t matter. She was still Hinata, and he was still Neji. He would win.

Hinata knew this. She had always known. But she had prepared for this moment. There was a time when she had simply accepted the fate handed to her—the fate of a girl born to be caged, a girl expected to bow her head and wilt. But she had met someone.

Not her father. Never her father. Hiashi Hyūga had never been a father to her. She had spent years aching for his acknowledgment, for a single glance that wasn’t filled with disappointment. But those years had passed, and so had her need for his approval. No, the one who had changed her fate was an old woman. A woman who had lived long enough to see the rot within the Hyūga. A woman who had taught Hinata in secret. Late at night, behind the walls of the main house, she had shown Hinata the truth. Revealed to her the intricacies of their clan’s combat—the techniques that were never meant to be shared with someone like her. The secrets of the Hyūga’s corruption. And from those lessons, Hinata had made a vow.

She would end it.

Neji struck again, this time sharper, faster—his Byakugan focusing on the flow of her chakra, looking for weaknesses.

He found none. Hinata’s movements were polished—not perfect, but refined, like a stone that had been carefully shaped over time. Her fingers redirected Neji’s attacks rather than blocking them outright, using his momentum against him.

She was matching him.

“Impossible,” Neji murmured under his breath, his tone unreadable.

From the stands, the reaction was just as shocked.

Shino’s eyebrows lifted slightly beneath his collar. “She’s improved.”

Kurenai, watching from beside him, felt her heart swell with something between pride and concern. "Hinata..."

Might Guy, arms crossed, let out a low whistle. "That’s not the same timid girl from before."

Even Kakashi’s single visible eye was sharp with interest.

Sasuke, watching closely, exhaled through his nose. He had assumed Neji would obliterate her quickly, but this…

This was something else.

“She’s fighting on equal ground,” Harry noted, fascinated.

Naruto, however, wasn’t paying attention to the technique itself—he was too busy grinning. "She’s really going for it!" he shouted, his excitement barely contained. “Kick his ass, Hinata!!”

Kakashi sighed. “Naruto…”

Sakura glanced down, her expression thoughtful. “She’s strong.”

Neji didn’t acknowledge the whispers from the stands. He only increased his attacks, his fingers aiming for her tenketsu—determined to shut her down.

That’s fine, Hinata thought.

Because she had already expected it.

Neji’s style was impeccable—it had to be, considering the weight he carried. He had been born under a curse.

A branch family member. A servant.

His father had been taken from him, his choices stolen before he even had the chance to make them. And for that—he hated her. Not because of anything she had done, but because of who she was. The main branch. The heiress. The girl who would inherit everything while he would always be beneath her.

Except—he was stronger than her. Everyone knew it.

Hinata had once believed that strength meant inheriting pain. But now she knew better.

Her strength didn’t come from pain. It came from choice. The choice to change things. To fight back.

And she would fight. For herself, Neji, and everyone who had been shackled by the Hyūga’s chains.

Neji’s next strike was fast. Too fast.

His fingertips brushed her shoulder—

But she turned.

Redirected.

Countered.

And for the first time—she struck him.

Neji’s feet slid backward across the stone floor. His eyes widened a fraction.

A hit.

Hinata had actually landed a hit.

From above, Naruto cheered. “HELL YEAH, HINATA!!”

Sasuke’s gaze sharpened. Harry tilted his head slightly. Even Sakura looked stunned.

Neji, however, merely exhaled, his surprise vanishing. Then—his expression darkened.

“I see,” he said, his voice cold. “So you really intend to struggle.”

Hinata didn’t waver. “I do.”

Neji exhaled slowly, shifting his stance, in a calm, detached tone, he spoke.

“Then I will show you what fate truly means.”

And with that—he moved.

The fight between Hinata and Neji was a dance—one of swift movements, clashing palms, and footwork so precise it blurred between instinct and training. They moved in tandem, their Byakugan glowing as their strikes met, fingertips barely grazing skin but cutting deeper than any blade. Neji aimed for her tenketsu, and Hinata countered, redirecting his strikes instead of blocking outright. Their feet barely touched the ground before they twisted again, circling each other like two opposing forces of nature. Then, for a brief moment—Hinata locked their arms together. Neji’s breath hitched as they spiraled. Their feet became weapons, kicking once—twice—each strike deflecting the other.

It was almost elegant.

Almost.

Neji twisted sharply, breaking her hold. Hinata stumbled back a step, but her gaze never wavered. Determined. Steady. Neji exhaled slowly, falling back into stance. "You're persistent."

Hinata didn’t immediately respond. Instead, she shifted, watching him carefully—then spoke. "Neji," she said, quiet but firm. "Do you truly believe in fate?"

Neji’s stance tightened.

Hinata continued, her voice calm, unshaken. "Or were you only ever taught to believe in it?"

A flicker of something passed through Neji's gaze—hesitation. It was small, almost imperceptible, but Hinata saw it. For the first time in the match, Neji hesitated. But only for a second.

Once the second passed his expression hardened again.

"This fight is already decided," he said, coldly. "And I'll prove it to you."

And with that—he attacked. Neji’s next strike came fast—too fast.

Hinata saw it coming. She could dodge. She could block. She could keep fighting.

But she didn’t instead she let it hit her. A sharp, brutal palm strike to her chest sent her reeling, her vision flickering. The impact stole her breath, but she smiled.

Neji didn’t hesitate. His final strike landed—a piercing blow to her abdomen, chakra laced in his fingertips, sealing off the last of her reserves.

Hinata crumpled.

Gasps rang through the arena.

But she didn’t care. As the world blurred, she saw the change of emotion in Neji’s eyes as she hit the ground. His hands trembled. His breath was uneven. His body locked in place, hovering over her collapsed form. Neji had won but his victory felt hollow. He had spent years believing that no one in the Main Branch would ever acknowledge his pain, that they would never understand.

Yet here was Hinata. Broken. Beaten. Smiling.

His Byakugan flickered. For the first time, he saw the future.

Change.

It was far away—but it was coming.