Chapter 59: Three Days
Plop. Plop.
Ryosuke could hear the violent pounding of his heart echoing in his ears.
But that wasn't all—he could hear everything happening inside his body.
The surge of blood rushing through his veins like the roaring Yangtze River.
The creaking of his bones.
The gurgling of his internal organs.
These usually imperceptible bodily sounds were now amplified in his mind, like someone had turned the volume all the way up.
And then—pain. Unbearable, searing pain that hit him like a wave before he could even speak.
"Ryosuke! What's wrong!?"
His vision blurred, but through the haze, he saw Hyuga Hiashi standing behind a desk. In the blink of an eye, he was beside Ryosuke, panic written all over his face.
The chair Hiashi had been sitting on had been flung aside in the chaos, shattering into pieces as it slammed into the wall.
Despite the agony, Ryosuke remained hyper-aware of his surroundings.
He didn't know when it happened, but the moment his body began to change, his eyes had opened involuntarily. Even if he'd wanted to block out the world and focus entirely on the transformation, it was impossible.
It was like lines of data had been forcibly coded into his brain, forcing his consciousness to stay partially aware.
Curled up on the floor, fists clenched tight, Ryosuke trembled.
Beside him, Hiashi no longer looked like the composed clan head he always was. His usual stern expression had vanished, replaced by a look of sheer panic. He crouched beside Ryosuke, helpless and lost.
His Byakugan was already activated. He could clearly see the turmoil inside Ryosuke's body—but even with all his experience, there was nothing he could do.
Hiashi's arms hovered in midair, unsure whether to act or stay still.
Should he call for a medical-nin?
What if that made things worse?
What if Ryosuke needed to go through this undisturbed?
He froze, unable to decide.
This was the first time Hiashi had ever seen Ryosuke like this.
Usually, the boy—his daughter's fiancé—wore a calm smile, acting far older than his years. He was always collected, always dependable.
But now, seeing Ryosuke writhing in pain, Hiashi felt like something was tearing at him from the inside.
Even though Ryosuke wasn't his biological son, he had watched the boy grow. His importance in Hiashi's heart had long since surpassed simple familial ties—he mattered just as much as Hinata or Hanabi. Maybe even more.
"Hang in there, Ryosuke…" Hiashi whispered, clenching his fists.
It was the only thing he could do.
So he stayed right there beside him, silently cheering him on.
Ryosuke, meanwhile, was enduring hell.
This wasn't like the first transformation.
Back then, most of the pain had been in his eyes, and it had ended within half a day. But now—now his entire body felt like it was being torn apart.
His eyes throbbed as if they were going to explode, veins bulging around the sockets.
But it didn't stop there.
The strain was everywhere. Veins popped up across his body, pushed to the limit by some unseen force.
His clothes clung to him, soaked in sweat. His pale hair, wet and limp, floated around his head like seaweed underwater.
But even through the agony, Ryosuke never screamed.
He grit his teeth and endured.
While part of his mind was forced to process the world around him, most of it remained focused inward—on what was happening inside his body.
As the hours dragged on, and the pain only grew worse, the transformation's effects became more and more noticeable.
His mental and physical strength were rising.
His limbs were becoming more flexible, more powerful.
His Byakugan's range had expanded—and its clarity had increased by a wide margin.
In the middle of all this suffering, something else emerged: excitement.
If there was one emotion strong enough to make Ryosuke forget his pain, it was the thrill of feeling his power increase so rapidly.
He could feel it.
The progress.
The growth.
And just like that, the pain began to dull—fading behind the rush of joy and anticipation.
He wasn't someone who enjoyed pain for its own sake—but if this kind of torment came with this level of strength…
He'd endure it a thousand times over.
Hiashi, who'd been watching Ryosuke's face twist in pain, noticed the change.
His expression, though still strained, now carried something new—resolve.
The clenched fists remained, but the suffering in his eyes had been replaced with burning determination.
---
Three days passed.
Ryosuke couldn't keep track of the exact time, but the alternating light and dark outside told him enough.
Hiashi never left his side.
The study had been locked down.
Even Hinata and Hanabi weren't allowed in.
During mealtimes, Hiashi used shadow clones to quietly deliver food to the household.
Even though Ryosuke rarely had the strength to eat, the meals kept coming—each one more elaborate than the last.
For three full days, Hyuga Hiashi remained beside him, always on alert, body tense and ready to act at the slightest sign of danger. He never relaxed, not even for a moment.
And then—
It was over.
Ryosuke's curled-up body finally began to unfurl.
Hiashi watched silently as Ryosuke slowly pushed himself up from the floor.
First to his knees.
Then into a horse stance, hands braced against his legs.
Then, finally, he straightened his back.
Sweat dripped from his face and hit the wooden floor in heavy drops.
But he smiled—his usual, confident smile—brighter than ever before.
"I... think I've gotten a lot stronger."
His voice was hoarse, like his throat was made of sandpaper. But he managed to speak.
The pain was still there, but it was fading.
His body was beginning to return to normal.
His organs were settling.
His blood flow was stabilizing.
Everything inside him was calming down.
"Are you hungry? Should I get you something to eat? Or some water?" Hiashi asked quickly, stepping forward.
"Yeah… Thank you, Father. I'm starving," Ryosuke replied, nodding weakly but gratefully.
Three days without proper food or rest.
A body pushed beyond its limits.
He was surprised he was even standing.
"I'll go get Aliang to prepare something. Call me if you need anything!" Hiashi said, disappearing in a flash.
He moved with a speed only a trained shinobi could muster—chakra flowing beneath his feet, vanishing with a flicker.
Hiashi's typical reserve had completely broken over the past three days.
His love and care—usually hidden behind a stoic mask—had become plain as day.
And Ryosuke felt it.
That warmth. That concern.
It filled him with a strange comfort.
He finally allowed himself to breathe, slowly relaxing his tense muscles.
As he took stock of himself, he could sense it clearly:
His transformation had stabilized.
In his mind, the familiar progress bar had reset—now sitting at zero.
If nothing unexpected happened, the next evolution would come in three years, when he turned nine.
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