A Caged Birds Rise

They're lavender-white, just like mine, I thought, gripping the edge of the crib to steady myself as the room seemed to tilt beneath me. My legs felt weak, but I refused to let them give way. In the crib before me, a small newborn lay gently swaddled, her wide, unblinking eyes staring back at me with a serene smile.

She was Hinata Hyuga, my cousin. And my final wake-up call.

The soft lavender hue of her eyes mirrored my own, a haunting reminder of the bloodline we shared, the destiny etched into our lives from birth. But in her gaze, I saw something more—something pure, untainted by the weight of expectations and burdens that had long pressed down on me. She didn't know yet. She didn't understand.

I need to adapt, I reminded myself again. This tiny, innocent life before me was a reminder that there was still time, still a chance to change the course I was on. Hinata's gentle smile, so full of trust and warmth, stirred something deep within me—awakening a resolve I hadn't felt in years. Or in this life.

"Do you like your cousin, Neji?" A warm voice broke through my thoughts as Hinata's mother, Hitomi, gently lifted me from the floor. My small, one-year-old form hung in the air for a brief moment before she drew me into her embrace, her arms wrapping around me with a comforting familiarity.

"Yes," I mumbled, the word slipping out naturally. It was a simple response, but for someone my age, it was more than expected. Yet, Hitomi showed no surprise, her expression soft and calm, as if she had grown accustomed to my precocious grasp of language.

"I see then. I hope you two become very important to each other in the future," Hitomi said, her voice laced with a maternal warmth as she placed a comforting palm on my back.

My gaze drifted back to Hinata, her tiny chest rising and falling gently with each breath. It seemed so fragile, yet steady, like a symbol of the quiet hope that still flickered within me.

I stared at her for a long while, my chest tightening as I thought about the future—our future. It seems I'll need to awaken my Byakugan ahead of time, I thought, gripping Hitomi's arm just a little tighter. Three years—just three years before the Hyuga Affair. The very thought made my chest tighten.

In that fateful year, my father would sacrifice his life for the clan and the village. That same year, I would be branded with the cursed seal, bound as a slave in my own home. I could see it clearly now: the way the Seal would scorch my skin, a mark that would define me forever, never to be erased. The very idea of it—of being chained like an animal, my every step dictated by my clan's cold, unyielding rules—filled me with a dread I couldn't quite shake.

And Hinata… She would remain untouched by the darkness that awaited me, cradled in the comfort of her father's love and the safety of her position. She would never be burdened by the curse that weighed down on me.

But that wouldn't be her fate if I had a say in it.

I had to protect her. I had to protect us both.

I reached out, my tiny fingers brushing against her hand, still cold from the night air. Her grip was warm, soft, innocent—trusting. A pang of guilt pierced my heart. I wasn't ready to carry the weight of such a promise, not at one year old, not when I still couldn't even walk without faltering. But in this new life, the responsibility was already mine. The burdens of fate had already been thrust upon me.

I wasn't sure how or why I had been reborn into this world, into this body, but I knew one thing: I couldn't let history repeat itself. Not for Hinata. Not for me.

With that, I made a silent vow—a promise that I would fight with every ounce of my being to change our destiny. To forge a new path for the Hyuga bloodline, free of the shackles that bound us.

Maybe, just maybe, there was still hope.

…

The room was eerily silent, its emptiness hanging between two identical figures. In the dim light, Hizashi and Hiashi Hyuga sat side by side, the air thick with the weight of unspoken words.

Hiashi broke the silence first, his voice cold but laced with a hint of something resembling admiration. "Your son is a genius, Hizashi." he paused before continuing. "Crawling at month 4, walking at six, speaking fluently at 8 and molding chakra fluently at 1" his eyes carried a glaze as he watched the candles casted shadow.

Hizashi didn't look up immediately, his hands folded tightly in his lap. His gaze was distant, eyes fixated on the floor. The words stung, though he wouldn't show it. He was all too aware of Neji's gifts—gifts that, in his mind, would never be his to control. "Yes," Hizashi replied curtly, his voice flat. "I know."

Hiashi's brow furrowed as he leaned slightly toward his younger brother, his expression betraying a mix of admiration and concern. "He has potential, Hizashi. The clan—" he hesitated, glancing briefly at the door as if fearing someone might be listening, "The clan will take notice. They might even want him to rise above his station."

Hizashi's hand clenched into a fist at the mention of the clan, but his voice remained calm, betraying none of his growing frustration. "I'll deal with them if it comes to that. No one will take my son from me."

Hiashi sighed deeply, his eyes narrowing. "It's not that simple. You know what the elders will say. They will want to push him toward the position of the Main House, or worse—the Branch House. They'll see him as a tool, something to be used. And if they do, they'll want him to carry the cursed seal."

The words cut deeper than Hiashi could know. Hizashi's jaw tightened, but his eyes remained fixed on the floor. He had seen firsthand what the cursed seal could do to a person. It was a mark of servitude, of pain, of slavery within their own family. It was a fate worse than death.

"I won't let that happen," Hizashi muttered, his voice quiet but full of conviction. He raised his head slowly to meet his brother's gaze, his lavender eyes steely with determination. "He is my son, Hiashi. He is not a tool. I won't let them use him that way."

Hiashi's gaze softened, but his concern remained. "You cannot fight the clan, Hizashi. We both know how this works. The elders are too powerful. You're just one man."

Hizashi clenched his fists tighter, the faint tremor in his fingers betraying his inner turmoil. "I don't care. Neji will not carry that curse. I won't let them do to him what they did to me." His voice cracked slightly, but he quickly regained his composure.

Hiashi shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes momentarily flickering with something akin to guilt. "But what if the clan decides... they might not listen to your pleas, Hizashi. They'll see Neji's power and think they have a right to control him. You're asking for a battle you can't win. And I… I don't want to see him suffer like you did."

A long silence passed between them. Hizashi's chest tightened at the thought of his son, innocent and unaware of the burdens to come, being forced into the same chains he had worn for years. He wasn't ready for Neji to face that darkness. Not yet. Not ever.

"I'll protect him," Hizashi whispered, the words almost a vow. "I'll find a way. Even if I have to fight the whole damn clan."

Hiashi's gaze lingered on his brother, his expression unreadable. For a long moment, it seemed as though the weight of Hizashi's words might have finally reached him. But he said nothing more. The silence stretched out, thick with the tension of a future neither brother was ready to face.