Fishing

"So the whole thing about someone losing Icha Icha Paradise was a lie, right?"

"No idea. Just heard a clansman mention it casually. Maybe it fell into the river?"

"And you planned to fish here all day because of that?"

"Kakashi-senpai, the joy of fishing has never been about the fish."

"?"

Kakashi Hatake couldn't shake the feeling that he was the fish.

At five years old, had he been this sharp?

And about Icha Icha Paradise—he'd never told anyone. How did this kid know he was interested in Jiraiya-sama's writing skill?

But since he was already here...

Kakashi Hatake lounged lazily on the small grassy slope by the riverbank, staring quietly at the sky. The warm afternoon sunlight spilled gently over him, and somehow, it felt more comfortable than lying at home.

Ever since Obito and Rin died, Kakashi had sunk into complete apathy.

The youthful ambition to clear his father's name had gradually worn away. What he'd gained from the merciless war was nothing but endless grief. His direction in life had become hazy, and even as an ANBU member, he'd lost the relentless drive he once had.

He was tired.

Yuzuru Hyuga was also sprawled lazily by the river, a brand-new fishing rod propped at his feet. As a young master of the Hyuga Branch Family, he had no interest in money—he spent it when he felt like it.

Neither of them spoke, just slowly savoring the idle time. In the end, it was Kakashi Hatake who broke first.

"The fish got away."

The rod wobbled a few times before going still. Clearly, the bait had been eaten, and the fish had taken the chance to escape.

Yuzuru Hyuga gave a vague "oh," pulled up the rod, re-baited it, cast it back in, and lay down again.

Silence fell once more—until the rod twitched again, the fish nearly yanking it into the river, and Yuzuru still didn't move. Kakashi couldn't help but say, "If you want to do a good deed, wouldn't it be easier to just dump the bait in?"

"A frivolous little fish that bites so easily won't make a delicious grilled fish." Yuzuru Hyuga casually grabbed the rod, gave it a flick, and a fish was hauled onto the bank.

He unhooked it without a second thought and tossed it back into the river.

Kakashi Hatake understood.

This little brat was hinting at him.

He lazily pushed up his forehead protector. "I'm rested. Time to head back."

Kid, if you've got something to say, just say it.

Kakashi Hatake patted the dirt off his pants and stood up, only to see Yuzuru Hyuga stretch as well. At the same time, just as Kakashi turned to leave, the boy flung a kunai at him.

The kunai wasn't fast. Kakashi simply reached out, caught the poorly aimed blade midair, spun it once in his hand, and gripped it reverse. "Looks like my kindness was wasted."

"How about a spirited sparring match, Kakashi-senpai?" Yuzuru Hyuga said, pushing up his glasses with a smile. "Who knows—maybe next year, I'll be your partner in ANBU."

Kakashi Hatake showed no surprise at the leaked information. He just sighed. "Today's my day off."

"Sorry, please forgive my impertinence. But the moment I saw you, Kakashi-senpai, I couldn't help wondering—what exactly turned you into the dispirited version of yourself you are now?"

Yuzuru Hyuga's words made Kakashi's gaze turn colder.

But Yuzuru just pushed his glasses again, a faint, enigmatic smile on his face. "Would you let me experience the Konoha White Fang's swordsmanship?"

"Sorry. If that's your goal, I refuse." Kakashi Hatake's eyes were icy. He didn't know how much this kid knew, but there were things he didn't like being brought up.

Kakashi Hatake turned and walked away, keeping most of his attention behind him. He figured the kid would probably strike suddenly, forcing him into a match.

Naive genius.

Kakashi Hatake was long past the age where the title of "genius" got his blood pumping for a fight. He wouldn't lose his cool over a few provoking words.

And this guy's way of talking was annoyingly grating—Kakashi had even less reason to indulge him.

But surprisingly, Yuzuru Hyuga didn't make a move.

His voice just rang out from behind, loaded with meaning.

"The fish is biting again. Want to stay and eat grilled fish together?"

"Sorry, I don't like fish."

He waved a hand and walked off with a casual air. Even at this point in time, he already had a hint of that Shippuden vibe.

Yuzuru Hyuga just smiled meaningfully, lay back down, and soaked up the sun.

Some big fish wouldn't rush to bite just for a bit of bait.

They hid themselves in the dark waters, seeing only the sparse light on the surface, and assumed that even above the water, everything was pitch black.

To turn that kind of fish into a delicious grilled meal took patience—and multiple, long-term rounds of baiting.

Only when they were drawn in by the scattered bait, swimming upward and glimpsing the hook's offering in the sunlight, would they cautiously take it—and then begin a life-or-death struggle with the angler.

The only pity was that today, there was probably no one to share the fish with.

Yuzuru Hyuga suddenly reached out, grabbed the rod, and a big fish was yanked up, flopping pitifully on the hook—the ones before got off fine, so why am I different?

He tossed the big fish into a bucket beside him and stretched.

"Retirement life really isn't for me right now."

He set the bucket aside and simply began cultivating on the spot.

No help for it—after just a few hours of rest, he felt restless all over, an inexplicable sense of crisis lingering around him. Only by pouring all his effort into training could he ease that pressure.

Sweat soon dripped down.

Though Yuzuru Hyuga appeared to be training only in basic Gentle Fist, the occasional flash of blue chakra light waves in the air proved that the Gentle Fist he practiced was far from as harmless as it looked.

Countless faint, ghostly blue chakra fist shadows struck the void around him. Yuzuru Hyuga controlled his chakra output, making it look ninety percent similar to the Eight Trigrams Vacuum Palm. Even if Elder Hyuga saw it, he could only helplessly conclude that Yuzuru had been trying to figure out the Eight Trigrams Vacuum Palm on his own and gone astray.

But in truth, was this breakthrough in Gentle Fist really on the same level as the Eight Trigrams Vacuum Palm?

Of course not!

If one observed closely, they could vaguely detect that this Gentle Fist, which Yuzuru Hyuga jokingly called the Minor Gods Vacuum Attack, already possessed some characteristics of the Gods Vacuum Attack.

'Multi-hit.'

The complete form of the Gods Vacuum Attack, the Eighty Gods Vacuum Attack, could be simply described as: gathering chakra into the palm, then releasing it to produce countless powerful fists. These fists could be used not only for offense but also for defense. Paired with Kaguya's Byakugan, they formed a flawless, attack-and-defense-integrated formation.

In other words, one condensation, multiple strikes.

The Eight Trigrams Vacuum Palm was merely a long-range 'Gentle Fist basic attack.'

The Gods Vacuum Attack, however, came with an afterimage effect—one attack, multiple impacts.

Yuzuru Hyuga's current Gentle Fist was the same.

He trained quietly, not stopping even when the Byakugan in his eyes could no longer sustain itself. Instead, he began refining chakra while using basic Gentle Fist to train his taijutsu with all his might.

He practiced for who knows how long before suddenly halting his movements.

Turning his head, he saw a girl standing on the riverbank—both familiar and unfamiliar.

Her black hair fluttered in the wind, and above her white eyes, so similar to Yuzuru Hyuga's, the blue Caged Bird markings faintly appeared and disappeared between her strands.

The girl's features carried a hint of childishness, yet she already bore the look of an adult. Her facial contours were sharp, giving her a resemblance to a grown Hinata, but she seemed colder. Perhaps because her features were too defined, she came across as somewhat unfriendly.

The hem of her long white dress swayed gently in the breeze, revealing glimpses of her pale, slender calves, which still retained the lines of muscle.

Seeing that Yuzuru Hyuga had noticed her, the girl showed no surprise. She simply watched him quietly, and under his questioning gaze, suddenly spoke softly: "Young Master Yuzuru. What's the point of this?"

Yuzuru Hyuga looked up at the girl before him. The scene felt both familiar and strange. This sudden wave of déjà vu left him dazed, and for no reason, a faint sense of crisis stirred in his heart.

Yuzuru Hyuga was, after all, no true fisherman.

He didn't understand that sometimes, people merely pace carelessly by the pond, and a fish, curious, is drawn by the shadow, leaping out of the water only to realize that the speck of shade, like bait, is actually a behemoth no fish should ever touch.