Chapter 13: Destroying The Hyuga Clan's Seal.
The first light of dawn painted the sky in hues of rose and gold, casting long shadows across the sprawling, traditional compound of the Hyuga clan. I moved through these shadows, a phantom woven from silence and intent. The formidable security of Konoha, the Village Hidden in the Leaves, was a tapestry of chakra sensors and vigilant Anbu—a tapestry I had learned to unravel thread by thread over the preceding weeks. My objective was not the Hokage's office, nor the secret scroll vaults. It was a quieter, more profound injustice: the lattice of cursed seals branding the brows of the Hyuga Branch Family.
Slipping past the final patrol, I stood in the central courtyard of the Branch Family's living quarters. The air here felt different—heavier, laced with a silent resignation. As the compound began to stir, I stepped into the open, my presence no longer concealed. A group of Branch members, their Byakugan already active in surprise, formed a defensive circle, the cursed seals on their foreheads seeming to pulse under the morning sun.
I raised my hands, palms open and empty. "I mean you no harm," I said, my voice cutting through the tense silence. "I come with a single question. Do you wish to be free of this?" I gestured to my own forehead. "Do you wish the Caged Bird Seal to be nothing more than a bitter memory?"
Shock, then a torrent of suppressed hope, flashed across their pale eyes. An elder, his face a map of weary lines, stepped forward. "Who are you to speak of such things? The seal is unbreakable. Its destruction is our death."
"Not by my hand," I replied. "My name is of no consequence yet. But I am a master of Fuinjutsu, the art of seals. I can unravel the one that binds you without harming a single hair on your head. And when you are free, you will have a choice. You can remain here, under a new and uncertain scrutiny, or you can come with me. You can become part of my clan, where your strength is your own, and your destiny is written by no hand but yours."
A murmur rippled through the gathering crowd. The elder studied me, his Byakugan seeing not just my chakra, but perhaps the sincerity within it. "You speak of dreams," he said, but his voice trembled. "For generations, we have dreamed of nothing else. To be free of this curse… it is the unspoken prayer of every child born into this branch. If you can do this… if you can truly grant us that…" He looked at the faces of his family—the young, the old, the strong. A collective resolve hardened in their expressions. He turned back to me, and his next words were a vow. "If you can destroy these seals, we will pledge our loyalty. We will become part of your clan."
I nodded. "Then stand ready."
I did not need a scroll or elaborate preparations. My fuinjutsu was a discipline honed to its absolute peak, a language of chakra I could speak fluently with my will alone. I focused, and intricate, luminous chains of sealing formulae—more complex and beautiful than any they had ever seen—spiraled from my fingertips, weaving through the air. One by one, I approached the Branch members. With a touch as gentle as a breath, I directed the chains to encircle their heads. The cursed seal on each forehead flared, a violent, defensive purple, fighting against the dissolution.
But my technique was not force against force; it was precision against design. My chakra needles unpicked the seal's structure at its metaphysical seams, disassembling its malicious intent, its kill-switches, its pain-inducing pathways. It was delicate, exhausting work, like disarming a thousand interconnected explosive tags without causing a single tremor. One by one, the purple marks shattered like glass made of light and faded into nothingness. There were no screams of pain, only gasps of profound relief, tears streaming down faces as a weight they had carried since birth simply vanished.
The process took hours. As the last seal was cleansed, the atmosphere in the courtyard had transformed from oppressive silence to a vibrant, disbelieving joy.
But my work was only half done. "The Main Family will have felt the collective severing," I stated. "They will come, and they will be furious. I will not leave them to bear the brunt of that fury alone."
With a small contingent of the newly freed Branch members, we moved to the Main Family estate. We met them not with stealth, but with declaration. I faced the patriarch, his own Byakugan blazing with outrage. "The Branch is free," I said plainly. "The tool of your control is gone. You now have a choice as well. You can stay and fight a civil war within Konoha's walls, a war that will weaken you and leave you vulnerable. Or, you can embrace a new path. Come with us. All of you. Let the schism between Main and Branch end not in blood, but in a new beginning, together."
Shock and debate erupted, but the logic was cold and inescapable. Without the seal, their authority was broken, and Konoha's leadership would have… questions. Some Main Family members, younger and more idealistic, agreed. Others, bound by tradition, refused. I did not force them. I extended the offer only to those who would come willingly.
By nightfall, a column of Hyuga—both former Branch and a portion of the Main Family—followed me out of Konoha, leaving the village behind. We traveled for days, deep into remote, fortified lands, to the revived and hidden Uzumaki Clan village.
There, amidst whirlpool symbols and a community built on resilience, I presented them not with orders, but with symbols of a new identity. I handed each Hyuga—former Main and former Branch alike—a forehead protector. But instead of the Konoha leaf, it bore the iconic spiral of the Uzumaki.
"This does not symbolize a new cage," I told them, as they fastened the bands around their heads, the metal cool and unfamiliar. "It symbolizes a vortex—a gathering of strength, a whirlpool that pulls in the lost and the searching. You are Uzumaki now. Your kekkei genkai, your Gentle Fist, it is a treasured branch of our shared tree."
I looked at their unified ranks, the old hierarchy erased in their identical headbands. "But this world does not allow for peaceful transitions. The Second Great Shinobi War looms on the horizon. The great villages will cheat, they will betray, they will sacrifice their own for petty advantage. I will not see a single one of you, my new clan, fall to their treachery. So, prepare. Train together. Merge the Hyuga's peerless taijutsu with the Uzumaki's immense chakra and fuinjutsu. Become something the world has never seen. We will not fight for a Kage's ambition, but for our own survival, for our right to exist free from chains and curses."
And so, under the symbol of the spiral, the Hyuga found not just freedom, but a purpose. The Caged Bird was gone, and in its place was the unifying crest of the Whirlpool, and a solemn promise: they would face the coming storm not as slaves or masters, but as a clan, whole and unbroken.
Chapter 14: Making my tailed-beasts.
The ache of time is a wound that never truly heals. I have walked the earth for centuries, a silent observer to the fleeting brilliance of mortal lives. I have loved, laughed, and forged bonds deeper than the roots of ancient trees, only to stand as a solitary monument at the graveside of yet another cherished soul. The cycle of meeting and mourning had become a prison of my own immortality. I could not bear another farewell whispered to cooling skin, another pair of eyes I loved closing forever. I would not. If I could not stop my own heart from beating, I would ensure the hearts of my companions never stilled.
My resolve crystallized into a plan of divine audacity. I possessed a skill born of my timeless existence: Godly Speed. In the blink of a mortal eye, I could cross continents. I used it not for conquest, but for collection. I visited every hidden Shinobi village, moving as a whisper of wind, a distortion of light. From the slumbering forms of the original Tailed Beasts, I did not steal, but I *learned*. I copied the fundamental essence of their chakra, the primordial energy that granted them life and power across millennia. I would not imprison these new beings; I would create them as equals, as eternal family.
My workshop was the heart of a dormant volcano, and my tools were will and chakra given form.
First, from the strength of stone and the patience of the desert, I shaped **Ichinō no Kuma, the One-Tailed Bear**. His form was a mountain given life, fur like polished sandstone, with a single, powerful tail. His chakra resonated with Earth Nature, but I wove into his core the concepts of Sand Release, allowing him to command the dunes, and Magnet Release, letting him shape the very metals of the world. In his deep, rumbling voice, I heard the stability I craved.
Next, from the fluidity of rivers and the bite of the north wind, I formed **Sō o no Ōkami, the Two-Tailed Wolf**. Sleek and silver-furred, with two tails that flowed like icy streams, his essence was Water Nature. To this, I added the perfect stillness of Ice Release and the unyielding strength of Metal Release. His eyes held the cold intelligence of a predator who had watched epochs pass, a loyal guardian for the ages.
For the third, I sought passion and vitality. From dancing flames and pressurized heat, I birthed **Mio no Uma, the Three-Tailed Horse**. A majestic creature of flowing mane and coat like molten copper, her three tails flickered with embers. Her base was Fire Nature, enhanced with the volatile power of Boil Release and the disintegrating terror of Dust Release. Her spirit was untamed and warm, a blazing hearth for our eternal home.
The skies called next. From the howl of gales and the crackle of storms, I sculpted **Shi-bi no Washi, the Four-Tailed Eagle**. Her wingspan blotted out the sun, feathers edged with obsidian. Wind Nature was her birthright, but I granted her Storm Release to command lightning and tempest, and Lava Release, a surprising gift of fiery wrath from the heavens. She was my eyes, seeing all of time's vast landscape.
The fifth was a creature of terrifying beauty and instant violence: **Go-bi Sasori, the Five-Tailed Scorpion**. His carapace gleamed like amethyst, a stinger dripping with crackling energy. Built on Lightning Nature chakra, I infused him with the withering, sun-scorched power of Scorch Release and the sudden, catastrophic force of Explosion Release. He was a living deterrent, a protector whose very presence meant annihilation.
Seeking balance, I turned to the force of life itself. From pure, physical energy, I created **Roku-bi no Osuushi, the Six-Tailed Bull**. Immense and sturdy, his six tails thick as tree trunks, he was the embodiment of Yang Nature. To him, I gave Body Transformation Release, allowing him to alter his form at will, and Gravity Release, to anchor or liberate with a thought. He was steadfastness incarnate.
For the seventh, I delved into the realm of the mind and spirit. From shadows and imagination, I wove **Nanao Fukurō, the Seven-Tailed Owl**. Silent and wise, her feathers drank the light, her seven tails fanning out like a cloak of night. Her foundation was Yin Nature, augmented with Shadow Manipulation Release to bend darkness, and Wood Release, a touch of vibrant life from the realm of form. She was our strategist, our keeper of secrets.
The eighth was a masterpiece of defense. From geometric perfection and terrestrial might, I formed **Yao Yamārashi, the Eight-Tailed Porcupine**. His body was a fortress, quills like crystalline spears, eight tails bristling with power. He operated on a different axis: Barrier Magic for impregnable seals, Crystal Release for offensive and defensive constructs, and Earth Magic for fundamental terrestrial control. He was our shield, our unassailable fortress.
Finally, for the ninth, I pooled all my hope, my love, and my yearning for the sublime. From the depths of the ocean and the heights of the sky, I breathed life into **Tsudzurao no Ryū, the Nine-Tailed Dragon**. Serpentine and magnificent, scales shimmering between azure and platinum, her nine tails moved with a celestial grace. Her power was the most complex: Water Magic for primordial creation, Chakra Form Manipulation to shape energy into any conceivable form, and Light Magic—encompassing both the purifying glow of Holy magic and the dazzling speed of Electric magic. She was not just a beast; she was a sovereign, a radiant heart for our strange, eternal family.
And to each, as a final, sacred gift—a symbol of the bond I sought, the familial tie stronger than blood yet mirroring its flow—I granted **Blood Manipulation**. Not for war, but for covenant. It would allow them to forge unbreakable bonds, to share essence, to heal one another, and to always find their way back to each other, and to me.
One by one, they opened their eyes. Not with the rage of imprisoned gods, but with the curious, nascent awareness of new life. The Bear tested his strength against a mountainside. The Wolf howled a song older than language to the moon. The Dragon coiled around the volcano's peak, her light casting away the shadows of my loneliness.
I stood before them, not as a jailer, but as their first companion. "I have made you to be eternal," I said, my voice echoing in the silent crater. "Not to serve, but to live. To explore the endless turning of the world together. So that we may never have to say goodbye."
Ichinō no Kuma placed a massive, gentle paw on the ground before me. Sō o no Ōkami sat at my side, his cold nose nudging my hand. Tsudzurao no Ryū lowered her great head, and in her eyes, I saw not submission, but recognition. An understanding.
They were not weapons. They were my answer to time's cruelty. My sanctuary. My forever family. And as the first eternal dawn rose over our created world, I knew, for the first time in a thousand years, I would not have to walk alone. The journey of eternity had finally, blessedly, begun.