Chapter 9: A Fistful of Envy
"Buuurp!"
A satisfied, if indelicate, sound escaped Hyuga Shinra's lips. He leaned back, patting his flat stomach contentedly. "The food was excellent. Thank you for your hospitality, Uncle Jiraiya."
Jiraiya stared, his eye twitching, at the towering stack of empty plates beside the boy. A steady, internal dripping sound, which he imagined was the sound of his life savings draining away, echoed in his mind.
"Shinra, how can you eat so much and not be... you know... full?" Tsunade asked, her voice laced with disbelief. She couldn't comprehend how a four-year-old's body could process that volume of food without any visible distension.
Orochimaru, who had played the part of a silent, pale, and handsome spectator throughout the meal, offered no comment. It wasn't his money, so the boy could have eaten the table for all he cared.
"Don't worry about it, Sister Tsunade," Shinra said with a dismissive wave. The secret was the Life Return technique embedded within the Marine Six Styles knowledge, allowing him to rapidly digest and convert the food into pure energy to fuel his body.
"You're a little monster, you know that?" Jiraiya muttered under his breath, wiping a tear as he counted out the ryo for the bill. A significant portion of his last mission's reward was now residing in the barbecue restaurant's till.
The restaurant owner watched them go, his smile strained. He hadn't lost money, but his generous discount had ensured his profit margin was thinner than he'd hoped.
"Well, since we're finished, I won't take up any more of your time, Sister Tsunade. I should be heading home." Shinra bowed politely. The sky had begun to bleed into shades of orange and purple; evening was falling.
As Shinra's small figure receded into the distance, Orochimaru's slitted eyes narrowed. "That boy from the Hyuga clan... he is far from ordinary."
"Just because he eats like a summon? What's so special about that?" Jiraiya grumbled, still nursing his financial wound.
"Idiot," Orochimaru stated coldly, before turning on his heel and melting into the shadows of the street.
"Hey! Who are you calling an idiot, you snake! Get back here!" Jiraiya yelled, charging after him.
Tsunade ignored their squabbling, her gaze still fixed on the spot where Shinra had disappeared. There had been a familiar quality to his chakra, a feeling she couldn't quite place until now. It was faint, but unmistakable—it felt similar to the vibrant, life-affirming energy she remembered from her grandfather, Senju Hashirama.
She shook her head, a small, fond smile touching her lips. "Forget it. He's a strange one, but he's cute. Much more interesting than my foolish little brother, Nawaki." A flicker of pain and deep affection crossed her features at the thought of her brother. With one last glance down the empty street, she turned and headed back towards the Senju compound.
"I didn't expect to run into the Sannin in their youth today," Shinra mused to himself as he walked. "That was an interesting twist. A free meal and a connection with future legends... not a bad day's work."
His path led him back through the quiet, traditional streets of the Hyuga compound. As he passed the main training ground, the sharp, rhythmic thwack of fists striking wood echoed in the twilight.
Training this late? Someone's dedicated. Or desperate, he thought. Curious, he changed direction and walked towards the sound.
The training ground was illuminated by a few strategically placed lanterns, casting long, dancing shadows. In the center, a boy his age, his forehead already branded with the stark X of the Caged Bird Seal, was relentlessly assaulting a training post.
"Well, if it isn't Hyuga Hizashi. I'm impressed. The sun's already set and you're still training. That's some dedication," Shinra remarked, his tone light.
Hizashi paused, glancing over his shoulder with a scowl before returning to his practice, his small fists now wreathed in a faint glow of chakra. He had clearly already learned the Chakra Refinement Technique.
"Though, from the look of it, this seems less like training and more like you're venting," Shinra added, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.
Hizashi whirled around, his face contorted with anger. "What's it to you? You're just the clan's trash! A Hyuga without the Byakugan! You don't even deserve the name!"
His eyes, for the briefest instant, darted to Shinra's smooth, unmarked forehead, and a flash of raw, unconcealed envy shone within them before he could hide it.
"You put on a tough front, but it's just a shell to hide how fragile you are inside. 'Venting' suits you perfectly," Shinra said, his voice dripping with mockery.
"Enough!" Hizashi snarled, his fists clenching so tightly his knuckles turned white. "A worthless failure like you, who doesn't have the Byakugan, has no right to judge me! You couldn't possibly understand!"
As the son of the clan head, Hizashi was no fool. He knew the grim truth of the Caged Bird Seal. In that moment, staring at Shinra's free forehead, he felt a jealousy so potent it was a physical ache. He would have traded places in a heartbeat, even if it meant being the "failure" in the eyes of the clan.
"Tsk, tsk. You're right, I don't understand you," Shinra conceded with a shrug. "But I do know you're drowning in self-pity right now." With that final, dismissive comment, he turned to leave. He had more important things to attend to than listening to Hizashi's woes.
The reason for his break from training wasn't just to celebrate his increased power. Today was his birthday. While no one else in the world remembered or cared, he did. In a few hours, he would officially turn four years old, and the system would grant him his annual lottery draw and 10,000 exchange points. After a year of experimentation, he had confirmed that these annual gifts were the only way to obtain points. There were no missions, no alternate methods. It was a system of feast or famine, and he was eagerly awaiting the feast.
Lost in thoughts of potential prizes, Shinra didn't notice the furious boy behind him. Humiliated and enraged, Hizashi, without channeling chakra, threw a wild, frustrated punch at Shinra's retreating back.
THWACK.
The impact was solid, jolting Shinra from his reverie. He stopped and slowly turned, his expression unreadable. "Did you just hit me?"
Hizashi's face was pale, his striking hand held behind his back, clenched tight to hide the fact that it was already swelling and throbbing with pain. The punch had felt like hitting solid iron. He bit his tongue, refusing to let a whimper escape. The shame of injuring himself while attacking someone else was overwhelming.
A low chuckle escaped Shinra's lips. "Well, if you threw a punch," he said, his voice deceptively calm as he raised his own fist, "it's only fair I get to return one, don't you think?"