Chapter 236: Neji’s Sparring Partner, Kimimaro
In the top-floor conference room of the Star Capital’s administration building, the atmosphere was solemn and dignified.
Around the massive circular conference table sat the core ministers of the Land of Stars’ power structure.
Sunlight streamed through the large floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the room brightly and also highlighting the flag on the wall symbolizing the Land of Stars, with its deep blue background adorned with brilliant stars.
The main seat at the conference table naturally belonged to that figure in a black robe wearing a white three-eyed fox mask, Menma appearing in the form of “Lord Shura.”
Although he appeared in the form of a boy, the calm and immense aura he exuded enveloped the entire conference room, making it impossible for anyone to feel the slightest bit of disregard.
Seated around him were the current pillars of the Land of Stars.
Minister of Internal Affairs Uzumaki Kushina had her vibrant red hair neatly tied up, wearing thin-rimmed glasses, her expression calm and capable, with thick stacks of report files piled in front of her.
Finance Minister Miyashiro En, usually carefree, was uncharacteristically dressed in a well-tailored dark suit, his fingertips lightly tapping the table, his eyes sharp beneath star-shaped sunglasses.
Defense Minister and military commander Uchiha Hikari wore deep blue clan robes, her black pupils occasionally scanning the room, carrying a trace of aloof sharpness that was hard to approach.
Anbu Commander Kisame Hoshigaki still had that fierce shark-like face, arms crossed, sitting silently in the corner like a hibernating beast, but his aura seemed less violent than before, with more depth.
High Miko of the Miko Cult, Miroku, wore sacred miko robes, her demeanor dignified and serene, her eyes filled with compassion and wisdom.
Minister of Education and Ninja Academy vice principal Nonō Yakushi had a gentle smile, but her eyes revealed the resilience and wisdom forged by hardship.
Minister of Justice Yoruya, former leader of Hoshigakure, now had a serious and meticulous expression.
Minister of Land and Construction Gōta had tanned skin and roughened palms from long-term leadership in external infrastructure tasks.
In addition, there were two special observers.
Also with red hair was Uzumaki Kushina, along with the blond blue-eyed, mild-mannered Minato Namikaze.
They sat slightly farther back, quietly observing the operations of this nation built single-handedly by their son, their eyes filled with novelty and undisguised pride.
The meeting proceeded in an orderly manner.
The ministers rose one by one to report to Menma on the developments in various aspects of the Land of Stars over the past year.
Uzumaki Kushina reported on internal affairs and population in a clear and steady tone: “…In summary, thanks to the agricultural development of the Ghost River’s downstream plains and the integration of the Land of Snow’s mineral resources, our country’s total economic output officially surpassed that of the Land of Water by the end of last year. Grain production is expected to exceed that of the Land of Fire after next spring’s harvest, achieving self-sufficiency while maintaining large reserves.”
She paused, adjusted her glasses, and continued: “According to preliminary statistics from the household registration department, our country’s total population now approaches sixteen million. The original Land of Bears and Land of Demons, though dominated by mountains and forests, have a combined population of less than three and a half million, but the newly incorporated Land of Swamps has over six million people, the Land of Shadows over five million, and the Land of Snow over one million.”
“Notably, due to our country’s land distribution policies and preferential treatment for commoners, news has spread, prompting many desert tribes in the Land of Wind and commoners in the Land of Earth to attempt large-scale migration to our country. The daimyo of the Lands of Wind and Earth have deployed armies and ninjas to seal the borderlines and block them, but large numbers of commoners are still risking the crossing.”
“Estimated just this year, immigrants from these two countries could exceed five hundred thousand. Properly settling these new immigrants will be the focus of the Internal Affairs Department’s next phase of work.”
Miyashiro En then reported in more detail on fiscal matters, including various taxes, commercial trade exchanges, military expenditures, education expenditures, special allocations for the three counties, and so on—a series of staggering fiscal revenues and growth figures that all heralded the vigorous vitality of this emerging nation.
Uchiha Hikari briefly reported on the army’s reorganization, training, and border defense situations, her tone concise and forceful.
Miroku described the role of the Miko Cult in soothing public sentiment, medical aid, and cultural integration in the new territories.
Gōta reported on the progress of major infrastructure projects, especially the railway network and water facilities connecting the counties, as well as the recovery in the three counties.
Yoruya reported on the implementation of the new legal code and the progress in perfecting the judicial system.
Minato Namikaze and Uzumaki Kushina listened quietly, their inner shock beyond measure.
They had never imagined that combining ninja power with state machinery could unleash such astonishing constructive force, creating a prosperous nation full of hope in such a short time.
This was utterly different from the Konoha in their memories, filled with missions, slaughter, family interests, and strife among the village’s upper echelons.
If memory served, it had been only four years since Menma seized power in the Land of Bears and established the Land of Stars, yet he had forged a new nation rivaling the Five Great Nations?!
Menma listened quietly throughout, occasionally nodding or posing one or two incisive questions at key points.
Finally, he summarized: “You’ve all worked hard over the past year. The Land of Stars’ current situation is inseparable from the efforts of everyone present. In the new year, I hope you will continue to strive.”
“For the immigrant settlement issue, Kushina, you must put in extra effort, coordinating closely with Gōta’s Construction Department and Miroku’s Miko Cult to ensure the new immigrants settle stably and become new forces in building the Land of Stars. For the pressure on the borderlines, Hikari, you and Kisame must pay close attention—both to guard against desperate moves from those two countries and, when necessary, to provide a path to life for those commoners seeking hope.”
“Yes! Lord!” everyone responded in unison, their tones filled with respect and determination.
As the meeting neared its end, Minister of Education Nonō Yakushi stood up, her expression carrying a gentle persistence.
“Lord, regarding the ninja school, I have a request.” Nonō’s voice was as gentle as ever, yet clearly audible to everyone: “The students from the first, second, and third cohorts of the school have overall levels stably reaching genin standards, with the most outstanding ones even approaching chunin in strength. What they lack is mainly combat experience.”
She scanned the room and continued: “I understand, Lord, that to give the children a more solid foundation, you have strictly limited the difficulty of early graduation exams, which is responsible toward them.”
“But these children, especially those from the first three cohorts, are mostly war orphans. Their desire to grow stronger and contribute to this nation that gave them new life is intensely urgent. Keeping them suppressed in school for too long, I worry, will not only dull their edge but could even trigger psychological issues. Therefore, I earnestly request, Lord, that you permit a batch of outstanding students to graduate early.”
The conference room fell silent as everyone looked toward Lord Shura at the main seat.
Uchiha Hikari seemed to be pondering something as well.
Menma was silent for a moment, his fingers lightly tapping the table.
He understood Nonō’s concerns; he often reviewed those children’s files, and they were indeed promising talents. Though the ninja world valued bloodlines, almost all humans here carried the blood of the Sage of Six Paths—even commoners could produce geniuses.
For instance, after the First Hokage founded Konohagakure, he unearthed a batch of genius ninjas from commoner backgrounds, most famously including one of the Sannin, Orochimaru, Jiraiya, Minato Namikaze, the Might Guy father and son, and even the Hatake Kakashi family seemed to be of commoner origin.
The Land of Stars had now stabilized for several years; it was time to bear its first fruits.
“You’re right, Nonō.” His steady voice came from beneath the mask: “It’s time to give them a chance. Blind protection isn’t a long-term solution. Hikari.”
“Here.” Uchiha Hikari responded immediately.
“Have your military dispatch experienced examiners to organize the graduation exam. All who are twelve or older may voluntarily sign up. Exam standards: Must be proficient in the basic three transformations, plus mastery of at least one practical ninja tool throwing technique or one offensive ninjutsu.” Menma issued the order.
“Yes.” Uchiha Hikari responded concisely.
At this point, the observing Uzumaki Kushina suddenly spoke up with a suggestion: “Lord Shura, since this cohort’s graduates are special, with three cohorts competing together, the competition will be fierce. Why not offer some extra rewards to motivate the children and demonstrate the nation’s emphasis on the new generation?”
Menma nodded; this was a good suggestion: “Very well. What specific plan?”
Kushina clearly had thought it through and spoke fluidly: “The top nine in overall results will form three elite squads, personally led by jonin on missions. Additionally, every graduate who passes will receive a D-rank ninjutsu as a reward. The top three will receive an extra C-rank ninjutsu. And the top student of this cohort…”
She paused, emphasizing her tone: “Will receive an additional B-rank ninjutsu as a reward, and his name will be engraved on the Ninja Academy’s honor wall as an example for future students.”
A B-rank ninjutsu!
For these freshly graduated genin, this was undoubtedly a tremendous temptation and precious resource.
Menma gave Kushina an approving look: “Approved. Implement according to this plan.”
His gaze then swept over Uchiha Hikari, Kisame Hoshigaki, and the other department heads present: “Notify everyone: On the day of the graduation exam, all jonin from each department without urgent missions should attend to observe. If they spot promising seedlings, they may approach early to consider taking them as disciples for focused training.”
“Yes!” Everyone acknowledged, understanding just how much Lord Shura valued nurturing the next generation.
Night fell, and the Star Capital’s lights came on. The administration building, having concluded its serious daytime meeting, gradually quieted.
After handling Anbu’s daily affairs, Kisame Hoshigaki stepped out of the heavily guarded building and immediately spotted the figure leaning under a streetlamp, waiting.
Mei Terumi wore casual Anbu attire for easy movement, her brown long hair softly draped over her shoulders, the dim yellow light casting a soft glow on her gentle face.
She wasn’t wearing a mask. Seeing Kisame emerge, a warm smile immediately lit up her face.
Several squad leaders from Anbu, also getting off work, saw this and exchanged knowing glances. One bolder one couldn’t resist whistling teasingly: “Yo! Commander, someone’s here to pick you up from work!”
“Yeah, yeah, so envious!”
“Commander, you’re so lucky!”
A hint of embarrassment crossed Kisame Hoshigaki’s shark face. He glared at them irritably: “Have you finished your mission reports? Feeling too idle?”
The squad leaders chuckled and shoved each other playfully before quickly scattering, their hearty laughter echoing in the night sky.
Kisame walked to Mei Terumi’s side, his tone still a bit gruff: “These guys are getting less disciplined. Looks like the usual training volume is too light.”
Mei Terumi looked at his feigned fierceness and couldn’t help but chuckle softly, her voice as gentle as spring breeze: “I think this side of you is much better than before.”
Kisame paused: “Better? How so?”
“More human touch than before, more like… a living person, rather than a blade that only knows missions.” Mei Terumi gazed at him, her black pupils reflecting the streetlamp’s light—and his figure.
“I like this Captain Kisame a lot.”
Kisame Hoshigaki was silent for a moment, his shark face seeming to soften slightly.
He didn’t respond, just awkwardly averted his gaze and said lowly: “Let’s go. Didn’t you say you wanted to stroll the night market?”
“Mm!” Mei Terumi nodded happily, naturally reaching out to link her arm with Kisame’s muscular one.
Kisame’s body stiffened for an instant but didn’t pull away, letting her hold on as the two merged into the bustling night market crowds of the Star Capital.
The night market buzzed with voices: vendors hawking snacks, the aroma of food, people’s laughter and chatter weaving together, full of the warmth of everyday life.
For Kisame Hoshigaki, who had long lived in the Blood Mist amid constant conspiracy and betrayal, this was a novel and unfamiliar experience.
His taut nerves seemed to relax bit by bit in this noisy yet peaceful environment.
Mei Terumi was clearly delighted, occasionally stopping at stalls selling small trinkets or specialty snacks.
Kisame followed silently beside her, watching her chat with vendors, watching her try shiny hairpins on her head and ask his opinion.
He always gave brief evaluations: “Not bad.” “Too flashy.” “Poor concealment.”
Eliciting another soft laugh from Mei Terumi.
As they walked, at a crossroads, Kisame Hoshigaki suddenly stopped.
His sharp gaze fixed on a thriving takoyaki shop at the corner.
Mei Terumi followed his line of sight, curiously asking: “What’s up, Kisame? Do you like takoyaki too?”
She knew he had little interest in sweets and rarely paid attention to such snacks.
Kisame Hoshigaki didn’t answer immediately, instead narrowing his eyes slightly, scanning the shop and surroundings like assessing a mission site, subconsciously analyzing: “This shop… is pretty good.”
“Oh? How can you tell? Because of the crowd, or it smells good?” Mei Terumi asked with interest, thinking he’d finally taken a liking to food.
“No.” Kisame shook his head, in his usual calm analytical mode: “This crossroads is a traffic hub in the area, with dense foot traffic. The shop’s position at the corner offers wide visibility, allowing dead-angle-free observation of all four directions.”
“And look, the alley behind the shop leads straight to another parallel snack street. In an emergency, whether defending in place using the shop or quickly evacuating via the back alley, it’s extremely convenient. It’s a great scouting point, or a backup for a temporary safe house.”
He finished his serious tactical analysis earnestly, only to find silence beside him.
Puzzled, he turned to see Mei Terumi covering her mouth, shoulders trembling slightly, her laughing eyes curved like crescents, clearly struggling not to laugh.
“Pfft… hahaha…” She finally couldn’t hold it, laughing lightly, her voice like tinkling bells: “You… I thought you meant the takoyaki tastes great! Turns out you’re analyzing its tactical position as ‘good’… Honestly!”
Kisame Hoshigaki watched Mei Terumi laugh till she shook, belatedly realizing what he’d said.
He turned away annoyed: “…Habit.”
Mei Terumi stopped laughing, but her eyes still brimmed with gentle amusement.
She took Kisame’s hand and pulled him toward the takoyaki shop without another word: “Since the position is so ‘good,’ let’s see if the taste matches!”
She bought a fresh, steaming portion of takoyaki, carefully skewered one with a bamboo stick, blew on it gently, then held it to Kisame’s mouth, her eyes sparkling with expectation: “Here, try it? Maybe the taste is ‘good’ like its position.”
Kisame looked at the smiling woman before him, then at the food by his mouth, hesitated, then opened his mouth, letting Mei Terumi feed him the takoyaki.
Crispy exterior, soft and chewy inside, bouncy octopus bits, rich sauce… The unfamiliar, warm taste of ordinary life spread in his mouth.
“How is it?” Mei Terumi asked expectantly.
Kisame chewed slowly, silent for a few seconds, then lowly evaluated: “…Mm. The taste… is indeed not bad.”
Mei Terumi’s smile brightened, as if receiving the highest praise.
She skewered one for herself, then linked arms with Kisame again, contentedly leaning against him: “Then let’s come often to this shop with ‘good position and taste’!”
Kisame didn’t reply, just let her hold on as they continued forward.
The night market’s noisy lights illuminated his face, diluting the perennial sinister ferocity, the slight upturn of his mouth perhaps unnoticed even by himself.
The night market crowds didn’t thin, the clamor and aromas weaving the Star Capital’s unique nighttime vitality, warm and auspicious.
For many, the new life was just beginning.
Mei Terumi nibbled delicately on the last takoyaki on her bamboo stick, savoring it, a trace of nostalgia in her eyes.
“The octopus here… or rather the fish used, has a unique taste,” she said softly, her voice cutting gently through the surrounding din.
“Firm texture, with a clear sweet chill unique to the northern seas. Probably caught from the northern seas off the Land of Snow, right? Very different from the fish we used to eat in the Land of Water.”
Kisame Hoshigaki listened attentively; he wasn’t very sensitive to food flavors, but his long ninja career had habituated him to observing and analyzing every detail.
“Fish from the Land of Water’s warm seas have softer texture and different flavor,” Mei Terumi continued, as if reminiscing or sharing.
“Life nurtured in different waters truly carries the imprint of its homeland even in texture.”
Kisame nodded thoughtfully; his mindset focused more on the implications—logistics, supply chains, regional specialty trade.
But what he wanted to share now was something else.
“In a few days,” he began, voice still low but lacking its former killing intent: “The Ninja Academy will have a large-scale graduation exam.”
Mei Terumi turned, her black eyes questioning.
“Lord Shura ordered it,” Kisame explained: “All department jonin without urgent missions must attend to observe, to select promising talents as disciples for focused training.”
Mei Terumi nodded in understanding, lightly tapping her chin with the bamboo stick: “I see. Lord Shura’s emphasis on the new generation is indeed extraordinary. He’s building the cornerstone for this nation’s future—cultivating those completely loyal to the Land of Stars and who understand the new ninja ideals.”
Her analysis always carried the clear logic of an intelligence operative: “This isn’t just about bolstering combat strength; it’s establishing inheritance and recognition.”
Mei Terumi nodded slightly and continued: “Our Anbu Intelligence Division does need fresh blood. Many scouting and infiltration missions require meticulous, quick-learning youngsters. I’ll go take a look too; if there’s a suitable child, perhaps I can bring them back to the Intelligence Division for personal guidance.”
Her tone held a hint of anticipation, like a gardener eyeing good seedlings.
Kisame watched the mentor-like gleam in Mei Terumi’s eyes, feeling a subtle stir within.
He realized he was growing more concerned with things unrelated to pure slaughter.
Meanwhile, in Konohagakure.
Neji Hyuga finished a day of classes at the Ninja Academy, backpack on, walking home alone.
The setting sun stretched his lonely shadow long.
Passing the school’s training ground, it was still lively inside.
Lower-year students were doing tedious stamina runs, sweat soaking their clothes.
In one corner, a familiar scene played out: Naruto Uzumaki’s blond hair bristling as he gesticulated wildly at Sasuke Uchiha, who coolly crossed his arms and fired back with curt barbs, making Naruto jump even more.
Their energy was almost blinding.
Neji’s gaze involuntarily shifted away, then fixed elsewhere.
Hinata Hyuga, the timid main family young lady, stood blushing beside a black-haired spiky-haired boy like a dependent bird.
That was Menma.
Hinata spoke softly to Menma, fingers nervously twisting together, while Menma listened with lazy yet patient demeanor.
Seeing this, a complex emotion surged in Neji’s heart.
Contempt for Hinata’s weakness?
Loathing for main family status?
Bewilderment at Menma’s seemingly casual yet attention-drawing poise?
Or… a trace of isolation he himself was unwilling to admit?
He quickly withdrew his gaze, expressionless, quickening his steps away from the training ground filled with various sounds.
The fate of the Hyuga Branch Family was like the indelible Caged Bird curse seal on his forehead, constantly reminding him of his limits.
Back at the rigidly rule-bound Hyuga Clan compound, dinner was quiet and oppressive.
Adhering to the no-talking-while-eating rule, only faint clinks of bowl and chopsticks.
After dinner, Neji went straight to the clan-exclusive practice ground with barely any rest.
Unfolding the Gentle Fist starting form, the boy’s figure darted and weaved on the empty ground, palm winds sharp, each strike carrying defiance against fate.
Passing Hyuga clansmen saw his diligence and couldn’t help murmuring praise.
“Neji is so hardworking…”
“Such talent and diligence—not unworthy of Hizashi’s son…”
“Such a pity…”
The unspoken words after “pity” stabbed like needles into Neji’s heart, driving him to train even harder.
Until sweat thoroughly soaked his training clothes and chakra nearly depleted, he stopped, gasping roughly.
Dragging his exhausted body home, he washed up, rinsing away the day’s fatigue and jumbled emotions.
Lying on the tatami, physical exhaustion quickly dragged his consciousness into deep sleep.
Yet, just as he fell asleep, on the back of his right hand, an extremely subtle engraving mark—usually imperceptible—quietly emitted a faint glow detectable only by mental power.
Neji’s spirit seemed drawn by a gentle force, freeing from his body and plunging into a realm both familiar and strange.
It was a mental space constructed by powerful illusion technique.
Not darkness, but an infinitely extending world with rippling water-like ground and endless starry sky overhead.
A figure was already waiting there.
A boy about his age with rare pale hair, abnormally pale skin, and most strikingly, a pair of pure white eyes like his own.
He stood quietly, his demeanor cool with a hint of aloof isolation.
It was Kimimaro Kaguya.
“You’re here.” Kimimaro’s voice was calm and unwavering, like the space itself.
Neji took a deep breath, assuming the Hyuga-style Gentle Fist starting form, eyes sharp: “Enough talk—begin!”
This wasn’t the first time.
Since Lord Shura engraved this on him, nearly every night upon sleeping, his spirit was pulled into this space for unrestrained life-or-death duels with this boy named Kimimaro.
Here, no main-branch constraints, no Caged Bird threat, not even worry of death or injury—any wounds slowly healed post-battle.
They could unleash full power, pushing each other to extremes.
“Eight Trigrams Sixty-Four Palms!” Neji attacked first, figure like lightning, palm shadows flying to seal Kimimaro’s tenketsu.
This so-called main family secret, eight-year-old Neji Hyuga had self-taught via extraordinary talent, though newly formed, breaking the main family’s monopoly on Gentle Fist profundities.
But Kimimaro’s movement was unpredictably bizarre, often dodging Neji’s fiercest strikes at inconceivable angles.
More terrifying was his bloodline limit.
“Corpse Bone Pulse: Ten Finger Bullets!”
In the next instant, bone spikes burst from Kimimaro’s fingertips like bullets whistling toward Neji at astonishing speed!
Neji’s Byakugan clearly tracked the bone bullets’ paths, body dodging rapidly, but still grazed by two or three, bringing simulated sharp pain on the mental level.
The battle continued.
Neji pushed Hyuga Gentle Fist’s subtlety to the extreme, Eight Trigrams Palm domain expanding and contracting repeatedly.
But Kimimaro’s Corpse Bone Pulse integrated offense and defense: bone blades, bone spears, even thorny bones erupting from within—endless bizarre lethal attacks.
Finally, after a feint, a rapid thrust transformed Kimimaro’s arm into the sharpest bone spear, exploiting a tiny flaw in Neji’s palm transition.
Splurt!
The pale bone spear pierced Neji’s shoulder blade, pinning him harshly to the mirror-like ground.
Intense simulated pain swept his body instantly.
“Urgh…” Neji grunted, cold sweat beading on his forehead, body twitching slightly from pain.
Kimimaro slowly withdrew the bone spear, standing beside him, looking down calmly, but in that calm was a trace of recognition for a worthy opponent.
Over this time, under orders, he had trained this kid called Neji Hyuga in the Engraved Tsukuyomi space; each fall saw quicker recovery, each failure absorbed into greater strength—his perseverance and talent earning respect.
“That’s it for tonight.” Kimimaro said flatly.
Neji lay on the ground, gasping heavily, feeling the slow-healing itch at the wound.
Gritting his teeth, unwillingly: “Why? I can continue!”
“A few days off.” Kimimaro explained concisely: “I have matters.”
“What matters?” Neji asked instinctively, curious about this “opponent” with dual bloodline limits of Byakugan and Corpse Bone Pulse, far surpassing him in taijutsu.
Kimimaro paused, seemingly weighing whether to answer, then said: “The Ninja Academy is holding a graduation exam; I need to go back.”
“Graduation exam?” Neji blinked: “Your Land of Stars’ Ninja Academy?”
“Mm. Lord Shura requires us to observe the new generation’s performance.” Kimimaro added.
Complex emotions surged in Neji’s heart.
That distant, mysterious Land of Stars, home to such powerful peers—he couldn’t help asking: “You… what level are you there?”
Kimimaro frowned slightly at the two red dots of his peace marks, tilting his head in thought.
His white eyes gazed into the void, as if measuring.
“That year, six of us graduated early together.” He finally answered, tone stating mere fact, no boasting.
“The other five… none are inferior to you.”
None inferior to you!
The words hammered Neji’s heart.
He’d always seen himself as a genius, the Hyuga Branch Family’s greatest hope, top among Konoha’s peers—even losing to this bizarre Kimimaro, he chalked it to dual bloodlines.
But now, he learned in another corner of the world existed six same-age monsters possibly stronger than him!
Unprecedented urgency and clear recognition of his weakness drowned Neji instantly.
Konoha’s petty world, Hyuga Clan’s internal strife—laughable and pitiable in this moment.
He needed to grow stronger, strong enough to shatter this damned fate, strong enough to witness a broader world!
The mental space slowly faded, Neji’s consciousness sinking into deeper sleep, but that resolve to grow stronger burned like an indelible brand in his heart.
