The Silent Game with the Fifth Elder

The wooden door slid open with quiet precision, revealing the figure of an older man stepping inside. Hikari's Byakugan, already active, took in every detail of the newcomer at once.

The man appeared to be in his mid-forties, slightly past the peak age for a shinobi, which was generally considered to be around forty. Yet, despite this, there was no sense of decline in his posture or movements.

Hikari recognized him immediately. He was a father of three, all of whom had already married and moved into their own households within the sprawling Hyuga compound.

His youngest child had reached his mid-teens, considered an adult by the clan's standards, while the older ones were in their twenties.

Alongside his wife and a few Branch Family attendants under her management, they were the only inhabitants of this estate—the central home of the Fifth Elder's lineage.

Situated near the core of the Hyuga compound, just beyond the estates of the other elders and a short distance from the Patriarch's residence, the house reflected the authority of its owner. Hikari processed all of this in a fraction of a second.

'Despite being slightly past his prime, he's on an entirely different level from the branch members I observed earlier…'

Even without movement, the Elder's presence carried weight. The careful refinement of his physique was evident, a testament to years of rigorous training and discipline.

His chakra pathway system was well-developed, indicating a deep reservoir of chakra and an impressive degree of control. His very stance exuded the aura of someone accustomed to wielding authority.

Each step he took was measured and deliberate, the gait of a seasoned warrior who had spent decades perfecting his craft.

His expression was unreadable, the hardened mask of a man who had long since mastered the art of concealing his thoughts.

Unlike the branch family members Hikari had observed earlier, this man betrayed no emotion, no weakness. If he harbored any thoughts about the situation before him, he gave nothing away.

Dressed in the traditional Hyuga attire, his long hair framing the stark white of his eyes, he carried himself with the quiet confidence that only came with great status.

Notably, his forehead remained unmarked, free of the seal that branded all members of the Side Branch—a visible reminder of the rigid hierarchy within the Hyuga clan.

'Takumi Hyuga. The Fifth Elder. One of the most powerful Elite Jonin in the clan, if my memory serves me right…'

There was no distinction in rank or strength between the Elders; they were merely numbered in historical order. Alongside the Patriarch, they comprised the Main Branch's highest authority.

Recognizing the need for formality, Hikari began to push himself upright, intent on offering the proper greeting. "Fifth Elder-sama—"

"It's alright, Hikari-kun. Don't get up. You need to rest," Takumi interrupted, his voice calm but firm. He moved to Hikari's side with practiced ease, guiding him back against the pillow.

The gesture was gentle, but the unspoken command was clear—there was no need for such deference between them.

Even as he obeyed, Hikari couldn't ignore the way Takumi's gaze lingered on him, or more precisely, on his Byakugan.

It was a quiet scrutiny, an evaluation of something beyond the obvious. Hikari understood. The awakening of the Byakugan at his age must have been more significant than he initially assumed.

His mind worked rapidly, piecing together the implications of Takumi's behavior. The addition of "-kun" after his name, the subtle shift from formal distance to something resembling familiarity—these were not minor details.

It was almost unheard of for someone of Takumi's status to address a three-year-old in such a way. Even more telling was the way Takumi referred to himself. Instead of insisting on the usual level of respect, he offered an alternative.

"Hikari-kun, there is no need for such formality in the future. After all, I am your legal guardian for the time being. You may call me Takumi-san, or Takumi-sensei, if you agree to become my student, as we discussed before."

His tone carried a warmth that hadn't been present in their previous interactions. The words seemed casual, but Hikari knew better. Every shift in tone, every nuance in wording, was an indicator of something greater at play.

'The Byakugan's activation must be an even bigger deal than I thought…'

He absorbed the information instinctively. Takumi's tone, his choice of words, even the distance he maintained within the room—it all painted a picture of shifting dynamics.

This wasn't just a simple visit from a guardian checking in on a child. This was an assessment, an evaluation, possibly even a subtle negotiation regarding Hikari's future within the clan.

Under normal circumstances, the Byakugan would allow its wielder to analyze a person's physical reactions in extreme detail—minute shifts in breathing, subtle increases in perspiration, the faintest irregularities in heart rate. Such indicators made deception nearly impossible against a Hyuga.

However, Hikari's abilities were still in their infancy, far from the level required for such intricate analysis.

And even if they weren't, Takumi was no ordinary opponent. As an elite Jonin, he had long since mastered the ability to suppress these unconscious signals, rendering any attempt at reading him pointless.

The conversation drifted toward his condition, Takumi inquiring about his well-being with a level of concern that felt somewhat out of character.

Hikari responded with measured politeness, assuring him that he had recovered. It was a longer exchange than any they had shared before. Up until now, Takumi's involvement in his life had been minimal, their interactions brief and distant.

The elder was a busy man. As one of the Hyuga's highest authorities, he held influence over the clan's private business ventures, overseeing his lineage's share of their economic interests.

His responsibilities likely extended beyond the clan, possibly involving roles within Konoha's administration as well. It left little room for personal interactions.

Most of their previous conversations had been short and to the point, limited to the logistics of Hikari's future training.

And even then, Hikari had stubbornly refused to begin training, dragging the matter out for childish reasons until now.

But things had changed. Hikari was no longer just the last surviving member of the Third Elder's lineage.

He was a child with an awakened Byakugan, a factor that could not be ignored. And Takumi, in his position of authority, had been given the responsibility of overseeing Hikari's inheritance and future development.

As the conversation continued, Hikari began to see the real purpose behind it. Beneath the surface of an elder checking in on a child, there was something more—a quiet, careful evaluation of Hikari's potential, likely on behalf of the clan's higher-ups.

'It's good that he's ambitious. He won't stand in my way when the time comes to claim what's mine…'

That realization brought a sense of relief—one that was quickly shattered by a sudden, sharp pain piercing through his eyes.