Year 59 of Konoha, a crisp autumn day.
Outside the Death Forest.
A gray-haired boy stood before a wooden training post in an open clearing.
The boy had delicate features and wore brown short sleeves and shorts. A white bandage was tied around his forehead, and his pale eyes were particularly striking.
The boy stared ahead, fully focused as he assumed the opening stance of the Eight Trigrams Palm.
"Gentle Fist Art: Eight Trigrams Sixty-Four Palms."
As his voice rang out~~~
The gray-haired boy suddenly sprang into motion, moving so fast that afterimages trailed behind him.
"Two Palms!"
"Four Palms!"
"..."
"Sixty-Four Palms!"
The gray-haired boy's footwork was nimble and graceful, while his strikes flowed as smoothly as drifting clouds and running water. It was simply a feast for the eyes.
Thud, thud, thud...
For a moment, palm shadows fluttered everywhere, like butterflies dancing among flowers. Every one of the gray-haired boy's palms struck the wooden post solidly, producing sounds like pearls falling onto a jade platter. Their marvelous rhythm was utterly mesmerizing.
As his voice faded~~~
The gray-haired boy was slightly out of breath, but a delighted smile appeared on his face.
Eight Trigrams Sixty-Four Palms—flawless!
The boy's name was Hyuga Hayato, and he was a member of the Hyuga Branch Family. Hayato was only twelve this year, yet he had mastered a secret art that only the Hyuga Main Branch could learn. Who would believe it if he told them?
Yet Hayato had not let it go to his head.
Originally, he had merely been an ordinary civil servant back in China on Blue Star. With no connections, no money, and no bright prospects, he had lived like a salted fish. He had thought such days would continue until retirement.
Forrest Gump had said, "Life was like a