*Sigh*
The afternoon sun warmed the Hyuga compound's courtyard, where a small child sat, his gaze lifted to the sky. Although barely three, his eyes held a wisdom far beyond his years. Long, silvery hair, as pure as marble, fell in messy locks over his pale forehead.
But it was his eyes that truly captivated. A soft lavender, like the flowers in his mother's garden, yet something more: tiny golden flecks shimmered and danced as if alive. Those eyes, too old for his childish face, searched the horizon as if seeking answers in the vast blue above.
He wore simple clothes, typical of his clan: a white high-collared shirt with long sleeves and loose trousers of the same color. Despite his innocent appearance, something in his posture, the tension in his small shoulders, hinted at a maturity unbecoming of such a young child.
"System... where are you?" he murmured, his voice barely a whisper lost in the gentle rustle of leaves. He frowned, frustrated, and sighed.
This child, now known as Hyuga Chen, harbored a secret. He remembered being torn from his former world and thrust into this one, the Naruto universe, as a newborn. A mechanical voice, which he called "system," had promised him many things. It had fulfilled part of its promise: granting him the Otsutsuki bloodline and purifying his own. But then... silence.
Three years had passed since then. Three years of waiting. Chen, despite his tender age, was beginning to lose hope that the system would ever return. Still, he couldn't deny he wasn't pleased with what he had gained. The Tenseigan, Toneri's dojutsu, had manifested in him, but in a unique way.
…..
The sun dipped lazily behind the mountains, painting the sky a vibrant orange that seeped through the windows of the Hyuga compound. Chen rose, the cold tatami matting chilling his bare feet. He padded silently to his room.
There, before the old full-length mirror passed down through his family, he paused. His reflection met his gaze with a curious, almost defiant look. Chen blinked, once again struck by the contrast between his youthful features and the maturity in his eyes.
"Not bad," he muttered, running his fingers through his white hair. "With this face, I could have the world eating out of my hand."
His eyes sparkled with a mix of pride and mischief. "And these eyes... well, they'd be the downfall of most kunoichi."
A chuckle escaped his lips, but it died as quickly as it was born. The smile froze on his face, turning into a mask. Suddenly, the weight of his reality crashed down on him: he was a three-year-old boy trapped in a world on the brink of war. His beauty and power, extraordinary as they were, would mean nothing if he didn't survive the coming storm.
"Better to keep a low profile," he said, a worried frown creasing his brow. "War is just around the corner, and I don't want to be dragged into the meat grinder before my time."
Chen closed his eyes, feeling the pulse of the Tenseigan.
But…as he was lost in thought, a shrill cry jolted him from his reverie. He scowled, irritated by the interruption. With an annoyed sigh, he strode to the door and flung it open.
There, in the hallway, a brat his age was bouncing around like he had ants in his pants. Chen recognized him instantly.
"Hyuga Chen, you filthy half-blood!" shrieked Hiro, pointing a chubby finger at him. His eyes gleamed with smug pride as he tapped his forehead. "See this? My grandpa says only pure-blooded Hyuga geniuses have it. You, you worthless mutt, will never measure up!"
Chen blinked, taking in Hiro's outburst. Part of him wanted to laugh in the boy's face, but another part pitied his ignorance. In the end, he settled for a wry smile.
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