Meanwhile, back in the present, "by the way," Emi said casually, though her eyes sharpened as they lingered on him.
"I've always wanted to ask, why are you so obsessed with the Hyūga clan? People get curious since we're called Konoha's strongest now, sure, but you… You dig too deep. And you know things no outsider should. Honestly, it feels like you're not even telling me everything."
Kimimaro's lips curved faintly, that unsettling, deliberate smile that always put her on edge.
"What if I told you," he said, voice slow, measured, "that my clan, the Kaguya… and your Hyūga clan, were distant relatives? Born from the same root."
Her eyes widened. For a heartbeat, her mind just stalled.
The dignified Hyūga, who paraded restraint, stoicism, and tradition in every public breath, related to the savages who gloried in bloodshed, the Kaguya?
He had once spoken to her about his clan's madness, almost casually, when she pressed him with questions in their quieter hours.
Her lips parted, then closed again. "No way," she muttered, suspicion flickering behind her eyes. "That doesn't make sense. You're teasing me again."
Kimimaro's grin widened, just enough to be infuriating.
"I told you the truth. Whether you believe it or not is your problem."
Emi sat there, staring at him, her thoughts chasing themselves in circles.
Could it be possible?
Had the Hyūga also buried something darker under their traditions, some echo of that brutality he described?
For a second, she even wondered if the clan's obsession with rules and suppression existed precisely because their roots were once too wild.
Her brows drew together, her face caught somewhere between fascination and unease.
Kimimaro's gaze lingered, amused at the sight of her tangled expression.
To him, her thoughts were just foolish spirals, but he still enjoyed watching her slip.
He leaned slightly forward. "Don't get lost in your own head, Emi," he murmured, tone calm but eyes glinting.
She flushed faintly, snapping back and shooting him a sharp look, more cover than defiance.
Before she could retort, his hand lifted, ruffling her hair lightly, brushing away her storm of thoughts like it was nothing.
Emi froze, startled. "H-hey—" Her voice cracked halfway between protest and something softer. She should have slapped his hand away, scolded him for treating her like a kid. But instead, heat crept up her cheeks.
Strangely, she didn't hate it. Some part of her chest fluttered, a reaction she couldn't name.
Kimimaro withdrew his hand just as calmly. "Better," he said simply. "Don't waste time on useless thoughts."
Her cheeks puffed as she tried to look annoyed, but her eyes darted away, betraying her. "…You're insufferable," she muttered, the words lacking their usual bite.
Kimimaro only smirked, satisfied. Her unsteady reaction was more rewarding than any sharp comeback.
His gaze lingered on her a moment longer before, with his usual precision, he shifted the subject elsewhere.
"How is your elemental training?"
Emi gave him a sideways look, lips twitching.
"Greater than I thought possible. Wind and lightning, my affinities. But, not that I ever trained them much before you. The clan doesn't care much about ninjutsu. At the academy, it's too advanced. And my old 'sensei', for a few months, was a civilian with earth affinity. Only used wind to coat his kunai, flashy, but hardly useful for me."
She said it lightly, but there was bitterness under the smile.
Years wasted in a system designed to keep her small, in her opinion.
Kimimaro nodded once. "That's why you're doing immersion first. No techniques until the elements themselves feel like extensions of your body. Ashina Uzumaki's method. Wind should be resistance, lightning should be flow. Once you feel them, you can use them."
Emi sighed and rolled her eyes. "You've been planning me since day one, haven't you?"
"Yes," he said simply.
She snorted, looking away, though the warmth in her cheeks betrayed her. "Figures."
For weeks now, she had been practicing not just her natural affinities but also the Yin and Yang exercises separately that Kimimaro had laid out, using his own previous direct example.
She had surprised even herself with how easily she adapted to Yin, shaping her chakra into subtle control.
And Yang, once just healing techniques, had twisted into something harsher, teaching her that growth could damage as much as it protected.
The idea of weaponized over-healing was nothing she could have ever imagined in the Hyūga compound.
Eventually, she could maybe not only heal herself in battles, but also cause tumorous growth on her enemies, with that same Yang Release, her great Byakugan eyesight, during battles, although it would take years, in Kimimaro's opinion.
"Honestly?" Emi muttered after a moment, brushing her hair back.
"I never expected to find so many valuable directions and interesting ideas here. In some backwater cult in the Land of Hot Water, of all places. And from you, of all people. I couldn't have dreamed it. But here I am, learning more in four months than in all the years I spent in Konoha."
Her smile curved, dry as always. "And Konoha, great hypocrite that it is, lets Side Branch rot in chains while preaching their 'big family' nonsense. 'Will of Fire' my ass. They even helped set the stage for my parents' deaths with their last stupid war, and still dare call themselves protectors."
Kimimaro didn't respond. He didn't need to — she could feel his agreement in his silence.
Her voice softened. "It feels… lighter. Like the chains loosened, even if just a little. I can breathe here. Train here. Grow here. Even if it's twisted, even if it's wrong… I'm grateful."
Kimimaro's eyes rested on her, quiet, weighing.
She chuckled faintly. "You're insane, you know. Who else tells me to mix wind, lightning, Yin, and Yang all into Gentle Fist? You talk about possibilities like they're inevitabilities. It's… visionary. You see possibilities no one else bothers with."
He let a faint smile flicker across his lips. "Vision is the difference between a loser and a winner, a subordinate and a leader. And the so-called 'insane' and visionary often overlap."
Emi looked back toward the sea, her expression hardening in thought.
In her mind, she measured him against the great powers she once thought unshakable.
Konoha, Hyūga, all of it.
And for the first time, she thought that maybe, just maybe, in a few years, he could even rival them in some way.
Not in size. But in weight.
He was clearly playing some long game as well.
Kimimaro, meanwhile, didn't think he was crazy for recommending so many different pathways to Emi.
He knew full well that if anyone in this world could even attempt such things, it would be her alone.
Ordinary shinobi would only waste time chasing that kind of complexity. But Emi was different.
She hadn't just inherited a very strong Byakugan and talent among the Hyuga side branch; she had forged something unique through her own obsession later down the line as well.
Countless hours spent practicing medical jutsu from childhood, peering inward at her own body, probing the curse mark that shackled her, had sharpened her vision beyond normal Hyūga standards.
She could see her own coils in real time, with feedback precise enough to adjust her training on the spot.
That alone made her dangerous.
With that sight, she could do what others never would: master not only wind and lightning to their full depths, but potentially fuse them into something missing, something advanced, an element unheard of.
He could already imagine it, her Gentle Fist laced with elemental flows, fingers carrying currents of wind and sparks of lightning, or bursts of Yin and Yang directly applied through her strikes.
Those were his ideas, his out-of-the-box thinking, and he knew long-term vision was one of his sharpest weapons.
He imagined her one day driving Yin Release through her enemies' coils, taijutsu layered with illusions, a true gen-taijutsu.
Or Yang chakra forced into overgrowth, flesh blooming like tumors, rotting from the inside out.
Combine all of the above with her clan's classics, vacuum palms, rotations, and the thought itself became terrifying.
She already showed an unusual affinity for Yang Release, able to merge taijutsu and partial healing in battle.
Turning that talent outward, toward enemies, would be infinitely harder, but not impossible.
Yin was the greater surprise.
When he saw how naturally she shaped it, Kimimaro found himself wondering if she was truly just another shinobi or another transmigrator monster like him.
However, he then reasoned that all those countless hours practicing medical jutsu might have also required deep chakra control training and also honed her spirit, and hence the Yin Release, in some way as well.
Of course, he knew recommending concepts was the easy part.
Concepts cost nothing, after all.
It would take her thousands of hours of discipline and probably a few years of patience before even fragments bore fruit.
Still, even the possibility gave her a path beyond what the Hyūga had ever dreamed, bringing her to the strongest level among them possible, able to threaten nearly anyone in the shinobi world.
And why hadn't the Hyūga themselves tried anything like this?
The answer was plain.
The Side Branch was beaten down, shackled under cursed seals, with no room or motivation to invent.
The Main Branch, meanwhile, rotted in decadence, fat on power, status, and hidden histories.
If they'd had even a shred of ambition left, Hiashi himself would have been a true Kage-level shinobi, not the half-measure, quasi-Kage at best that he really was.
Kimimaro's smirk was thin, humorless.
In that weakness, he found a hidden opportunity.
He then finally broke the silence, his voice still even but edged with faint amusement.
"You'd better pick up the pace, Emi. After all, you're the 'weakest link' among us. If you don't get stronger soon, all my careful teaching will have been wasted. I didn't waste so many nights mapping paths tailored just for you so you could crawl and remain a burden for years."
Emi gave him a long look, then smirked.
"Late-night planning? Careful, you'll make it sound like you lie awake thinking about me."
His expression didn't change. "I do. Calculating your usefulness takes time."
She snorted, half amused, half irritated. "Unbelievable. Most people would call that obsession."
"Most people aren't worth obsessing over," he replied evenly. "But your potential is… tolerable. That's why I expect returns."
Her laughter came quick and sharp. "Tolerable, huh? You really know how to inspire a girl."
"You don't need inspiration," Kimimaro said. "You need discipline."
For a moment, she held his gaze, smile lingering despite herself.
Then she turned back to the sea, letting the wind pull strands of her hair across her face.
She just gave a short laugh. "Weapon, assistant, student, debtor— you really can't pick what you want me to be for you, can you?"
"I want results," he said simply. "You'll repay me with strength and skill. Nothing else matters."
Emi tilted her head, studying him with those pale eyes, then smirked. "Then don't blink. One day I'll be strong enough to make you regret every abuse you throw my way, by the way."
'Abuse...?' Kimimaro's mouth curved faintly, but then he replied as if in approval. "Good. Try."