【Naruto】Hyuga Neji’s Beautiful Life

On the day of the funeral, it was pouring rain, the sky was foggy, and the black clouds seemed to be pressing down in the next second.

The raindrops hit the tombstone mercilessly, cracking into pieces and splashing countless heirs. The stone platform extending from the tombstone was dyed dark by the rain, reflecting the light vaguely. There are a few tablets scattered on one side of the stone platform, each of which has been meticulously taken care of. The other side is covered with moss, and there are piles of wooden tablets engraved with people's names in front and back. Those that cannot be protected by the eaves are covered by eaves. The pits eroded by time.

Neji held his mother's portrait, raindrops streaming down his eyes, and there was no sadness or joy in his white eyes. The wooden sign with "Hyuuga Takako" engraved on it was placed on the stone platform. It was obviously a newcomer, but he had to stand on the green moss marks. The rain hit the side, and the moisture spread from the darker parts to the wooden sign. The lines extend to the lighter-colored parts, filling the depressions on the wooden sign, but they are rare and substantial.

"I don't blame you, Mother."

The crowd dispersed, and Neji, who was sitting alone in front of the tomb, said what he would never have time to say to his mother in the future.

Seven days have passed since my mother hanged herself and today's funeral. The bruises under her eyes tell the story of her unfair experience. There was a familiar smell among the elders who came to express condolences, but even though they didn't see them, their bodies felt uncontrollably nauseated and fearful.

It's probably that person, Neji thought. But he shook his head: Elders are all very powerful adults, and Neji has always been educated like this.

At night, his father was rarely busy with work, but stayed at home with little Neji. Every time my father stayed home overnight, he didn't have to be taken to the devil's storage room.

The child was sitting in the bath, and his father held Neji in his arms, talking to Neji as if he didn't see the bruises all over the child's body.

"It's my fourth birthday in a few days. What would Neji want?"

The child was hesitant and speechless. In the end, he just said, "I hope my father can stay at home for a few more days." He hesitated to speak, but his father could not answer. The silence between father and son seemed to be like a horizontal wall. wall.

But the father just stroked the child's black hair, and the white soft towel wrapped Neji's young body. After drying the last strand of hair, his father leaned close to Ningci's ear: "I'm sorry, dad is very busy with work recently and may have to leave the village for a few days..."

Seeing the child's extremely depressed expression, he added, "My uncle's family has a child about your age. Can I take you to my uncle's house for your birthday?"

"Ok!"

He instinctively looks forward to and is curious about his contemporaries, and his big eyes seem to be able to emit stars. Hizashi just hugged his son and smiled as he described the eldest lady of the clan family he knew.

The evening breeze blew across my face, causing my black hair to flutter. The child's eyelids were shaky, but he still looked at his father:

"Father, can you practice with me today?"

During the days when his father was away, Neji was always alone, reading the scrolls his father left at home, practicing his Byakugan or sparring with the wooden stakes in the courtyard that were in disrepair.

"May I?"

Blinking his big eyes, he once again made a request to his favorite father. Guilt filled the middle-aged man's chest. The child lost his mother at such a young age, but he couldn't accompany him. He was so... weak, but he could only turn a blind eye.

"Ah, come on!"

The man lifted the child up with both hands, and the full moon was in the sky, and the moonlight was really dazzling.

"But don't roll your eyes!" The father didn't want his child to make the same mistake again.

Neji really wanted to let his father know that he was now able to open his eyes freely, but he didn't want to worry his father who had a hard time returning home, so he swallowed it.

"Okay, let me show you this today."

"Baguazhang? Return to Heaven"

The blue chakra moved along the man's gyro-like circle, wrapping around it to form a sphere. Even the leaves falling on the tree were bounced away at the moment of contact, and changed into different shapes the next second. For dust to blend into the night sky.

Neji's eyes widened and he held his hands on his chest in excitement, "It's so powerful! It's a technique that's not on the scroll!"

He tugged on the hem of his father's clothes, raised his little head with all his strength, and tried to make eye contact with his father, "I want to learn too!"

Hizashi was pleased that his son could see at a glance that this was a technique that was not included in the scroll. He placed a generous and warm hand on Neji's head: This is a technique that only members of the clan can learn...Hizashi Thought like this but what he said was "Neji should learn Rouquan first!" The man smiled, smiled, but stopped smiling.

"Crack! Crack! Crack!"

The sound of fistfights was particularly loud in the silent night. Although the boxing skills were immature, they made progress with every blow. Hizashi could feel his son's outstanding talent, but fate played a trick on him. The tragedy of the day he opened his eyes came to mind again. He shook his head and looked at the son he could be proud of again.

"Come again! Neji!"

"very good!"

"That's it!"

"The strength in the abdomen has relaxed!"

……

Looking at his son's innocent sleeping face, Hizashi released his murderous intent uncontrollably. The old man behind him muttered something, and the man covered his head and struggled on the ground.

In his sleepy eyes, a sharp sting came over him, and the familiar smell of an old man came from his body.

He must be unhappy again today.

It's so funny to bully the weak to satisfy your own twisted psychology.

When he woke up in the room, his father was not beside him. Except for the new bruises on his body, everything seemed as if nothing had happened. I closed my eyes, then opened them, then closed them again and didn't want to open them. I just waited for the sun to enter the room, then pretended to have just woken up, then yawned and stretched in a decent way.

Maybe what the adults say is not necessarily right. Are the elders really powerful people?

A father who cannot even protect his children is still a father.

The pain in my body didn't seem to be that unbearable anymore, but my chest was squeezed into a ball, and my breath was pressed against my throat, and every breath was so difficult.

"Father..."

He wanted to cry but couldn't shed a single tear.

Some scalding hot water was poured on the body, and red marks spread all over the body through the white skin.

This wash took more than two hours. When Neji came out of the bathroom, his legs were trembling, the world was spinning, and the moisture in his body seemed to have been drained. Although there was heat all around, he could not feel the warmth, only the coolness of autumn.

The dizzy child put on a white coat hastily and went straight to the wooden pile in the yard.

"Da da da"

"clap clap"

The sound of the wooden stakes turning mixed with the sound of the boy's palm hitting the hard object intertwined into a unique lyric poem.

I was sweating all the time, my legs were shaking, my hands were so painful that I couldn't lift them up, and every part of my body was no longer my own and was as heavy as lead.

But the boy kept repeating, waving and hitting again and again. Although his body was in unbearable pain, the tightness in his chest gradually eased, and the breath he had been breathing began to show signs of loosening.

It's a fire burning cloud.

The clouds in the sky are often bright red, dyeing the child's little world red.

"Crack!"

The last pose came to an end, and the boy fainted weakly on the ground, not looking forward to a peaceful night's sleep, nor looking forward to the warmth of getting up in the morning.

Looking forward to the arrival of her birthday, I recall every bit of my father's description of the eldest daughter of the Zong family.

"What will everyone of the same generation be like?"