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Naruto and Hiashi sat facing each other at the small, low dining table. The atmosphere was thick enough to choke on. Inside Naruto's room, Hanabi and Hinata had been confined by their father's command; he had claimed he wished to "speak privately" with their host.
"Is that so? Because the training was tough, you treated Hinata and Hanabi to a meal?"
Hiashi's face was a mask of stern stone, his Byakugan fixed on Naruto with a piercing intensity. He seemed to be analyzing not just Naruto's chakra, but the very fiber of his soul. "Naruto, you truly are a... gentle child."
The scrutiny was so oppressive that even Kurama, locked within the Sealing Space, began to pace restlessly. This old man's eyes are creepy, Naruto. He's looking for a crack in your armor. Think of a way to get rid of him!
Naruto remained unruffled. He ignored the fox's grumbling, merely nodding slightly. "You flatter me, Hyuga-sama," he replied, his tone as tranquil as a mountain lake.
Hiashi's tone shifted, becoming sharp and probing. "I heard that not long ago, you defeated the Uchiha in your class—the one who had already activated his Sharingan. With strength like yours, you must have found it quite easy to spar with my daughters."
He didn't pause for Naruto to craft a diplomatic answer. "So, in your opinion... who do you think has more talent? Hinata, or Hanabi?"
The question was a trap. Inside the bedroom, the sisters held their breath, their ears pressed against the door.
"I believe Hinata's talent is immense," Naruto affirmed immediately. Then, his voice took on a blunt, clinical edge. "However, she doesn't eat enough at home. If the body is starving, the talent remains locked away. It's hard to manifest power when you lack basic fuel."
The implication was a slap to the face: Your prestigious clan can't even feed its heir.
Hiashi's eyes widened in genuine shock. "Hinata... not eating? How could that be? She is provided for according to the highest standards."
Naruto didn't waste words on a rebuttal. He stood up, walked into the kitchen, and returned with the two massive serving bowls and the stack of plates they had just emptied. He set them on the table with a heavy clack.
"The three of us just finished this," Naruto pointed to the containers. "Plus eight steamed buns."
Hiashi stared at the sheer volume of the empty ceramic. An absurd, unbidden thought crossed his mind: Uzumaki Naruto owns bowls this large? Did I accidentally walk into the Akimichi compound?
The sight of the empty dishes hit him harder than any lecture on parenting. He had never paid attention to his daughters' appetites, only to their adherence to rigid dining etiquette. He slowly stood up, straightened his robes, and—to Naruto's surprise—bowed deeply.
"...I have been negligent. I apologize for my lack of insight. You have seen my embarrassment." His voice was low, carrying a rare note of paternal regret.
"It's nothing," Naruto said, reaching out to support the patriarch's arm. "Hinata and Hanabi are my friends. Friends look out for one another. But," Naruto's gaze turned sharp, "her psychological state is even more precarious than her diet. As a father, you need to provide encouragement, not just criticism."
Hiashi sat back down, his aura of a Clan Head softening into that of a man seeking advice from a peer. "Could you... elaborate?"
"Her foundation is solid, her training is excellent," Naruto explained. "But she is a bow drawn too tight. You expect her to lead the clan, to carry the pride of the Hyuga on her back before she's even reached her teens. If you don't give her room to breathe, the string will snap."
In the bedroom, Hanabi felt her sister's hand tighten. Hinata was trembling, biting her lip to keep from sobbing. For the first time, Hanabi truly understood the suffocating weight of the title Eldest Daughter of the Main House.
Hiashi remained silent, absorbing the boy's words. He understood the principle of recovery, but he had a secret reason for his harshness—a reason that went beyond mere tradition.
"I see," Hiashi murmured. "Perhaps I have focused too much on the destination and forgotten the journey of the child."
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