Romance and Ninjas: In Naruto With Infinite Skill Points!

Ever since the day Hyuga Yuuki fought the bullies, rumors had spread like wildfire throughout the village.

Among the children, Uzumaki Kushina's explosive strength had left a lasting impression—her raw power making her the stuff of nightmares.

But for the adults, it was something else entirely.

Skill.

And in the world of shinobi, skill was infinitely more dangerous than brute force.

---

In the meeting hall of the Hyuga Clan, the atmosphere was heavy. The current patriarch sat at the head of the long wooden table, surrounded by the clan elders, their expressions unreadable. The topic of discussion was one name:

Hyuga Yuuki.

At the center of the room, a man with sharp features and piercing white eyes rested his hands on the table. His voice, normally firm and resolute, carried the faintest trace of hesitation.

"Everyone, I have called you here today to discuss the son of Takemura."

This man was Hyuga Sanada, a stoic and ever-serious elder of the clan. (Since he does not have an official name in the original series, I have used the name of his voice actor.)

A heavy silence followed his words, the gathered elders exchanging knowing glances. Even in a clan as reserved as the Hyuga, the subject of Takemura's son was delicate.

A branch family member—but not just any branch member.

A boy who had activated his Byakugan without hand seals.

A boy who had sealed the tenketsu of seven opponents effortlessly.

A boy who had demonstrated skills beyond his status—beyond what should have been possible for someone of his lineage at that age.

And that was what had drawn their attention.

"I say, this boy must have sneaked into the clan's archives! Do you really believe a child from the branch family could effortlessly defeat seven kids his age? Unless someone here has been secretly training him, this is impossible!"

Elder Masahiro slammed his palm against the table, his expression twisted in frustration. His outburst sent a ripple through the gathered elders, but before anyone could respond, a voice laced with scorn cut through the room.

"Old thing, this is not your home for you to be slapping the table at will."

On the other end of the table, Elder Nohana leaned back, arms crossed, her pale Hyuga eyes filled with disdain.

Masahiro's face darkened, his fingers tightening into fists as he gnashed his teeth.

"You—how dare you!" He shot to his feet, but Nohana remained unimpressed.

"Hmph," she scoffed, unfazed. "So only your main branch is allowed to give birth to geniuses? Even the Uchiha, with all their arrogance, have had figures like Madara and Izuna rise from nowhere. Their father? A complete nobody in the Uchiha clan, yet his sons shook the world. Why can't it be our Hyuga branch clan's turn to produce a genius?"

Her words settled heavily over the room. Some elders averted their eyes, while others furrowed their brows, deep in thought.

Nohana then turned toward the patriarch, stepping forward. With a deep bow, her voice took on a pleading tone.

"Patriarch, please be magnanimous. The clan is in dire need of talent. I humbly request that the clan formally teach that child the Eight Trigrams Sixty-Four Palms and the Hakkeshō Kaiten(eight trigrams: rotation)."

The room fell into silence.

All eyes turned to the patriarch, waiting for his response.

With a deep frown, Hyuga Sanada shifted his gaze toward the left side of the table, his expression grave. He sat in contemplative silence, his fingers tapping lightly against the wooden surface. The elders awaited his response, tension filling the room.

Finally, after a long pause, he shook his head.

"Impossible."

His voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable weight of finality.

"The only reason our clan has survived since the era of the Sage of Six Paths is that we have always upheld our traditions. If we give in today, we will be forced to give in tomorrow. Today, we grant him the secret techniques of the main clan; tomorrow, he will ask for the removal of the seal. What he learns on his own is none of our concern, but do not expect the clan to favor him just because of his talent."

His words settled heavily over the room.

"The purpose of the branch clan is to protect and ensure the continuation of the main house, not the other way around."

The branch clan elders erupted, their voices filled with rage.

"Why!? Why can't you favor the branch clan even a little?"

"Hmph! What else did we expect? We will always be nothing more than slaves in their eyes! There is no point in continuing this conversation."

"Sanada, the clan will only wither and die under your rule!"

But Sanada remained unmoved, his expression as cold as ever.

Across from him, Nohana took a deep breath, forcing herself to remain calm. Unlike the others, she saw something they did not.

Sanada had made a statement that could be interpreted in multiple ways.

"What he learns on his own is none of our concern."

A mere sentence, yet a powerful loophole.

As long as Hyuga Yuuki did not steal from the clan's archives, he could train however he wished, and they would not persecute him.

Lowering her gaze in silent acknowledgment, Nohana bowed once more before standing up. Without another word, she turned and left the room, her departure echoing with subtle defiance.

Meanwhile, the elders of the main house exchanged pleased glances, nodding in agreement.

"That's it. Our Hyuga clan is blessed to have you, Sanada."

"Hmm. Under Sanada's leadership, our clan is bound to prosper."

Masahiro, now wearing a self-satisfied smile, let out a hearty chuckle.

"Hahaha, well done, Sanada. But I have another suggestion."

He leaned forward, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"Hasn't that scourge, Danzo, been requesting children for his training programs? We all know what truly happens in ROOT. Why not send that boy? If we do not deal with him now, he may one day become a thorn in our side."

A heavy silence followed.

For the first time, Sanada's expression darkened.

His usually calm demeanor cracked, his brows furrowing as a spark of rage flickered in his pale, pupil-less eyes.

Just as he was about to lash out, the doors burst open.

A Hyuga guard rushed inside, his breath ragged, his face pale.

"Patriarch!"

The entire room fell silent.

Elders stiffened, their attention snapping to the intruder.

Sanada's eyes narrowed, his tone displeased.

"What is it?"

Guards were strictly forbidden from entering unless it was a dire emergency.

For one to interrupt a Hyuga clan meeting so boldly—something was wrong.

"I'm sorry for the interruption, Patriarch. The captain of the Anbu has come to visit—he brings an official order from Lord Hokage!"

Sanada's expression hardened instantly. His mind raced, sorting through the possible reasons for such a summons.

Hiruzen… What do you want now, old bastard?

He frowned, his gaze shifting toward the main branch elders still seated at the table. With a single decisive nod, he spoke.

"This meeting is dismissed. We will continue as usual next week."

A chorus of "We obey." echoed through the hall as the elders rose from their seats and began filing out. Their murmurs filled the space, speculation hanging heavy in the air, but no one dared question an official order from the Hokage.

Once the last of them had disappeared behind the closing doors, Sanada turned to the guard.

"Let Lord Hatake in."

"Yes, Patriarch!"

A moment later, a figure stepped into the hallway—his dog mask concealing his face, but his signature white hair unmistakable. Moving with the fluid grace of a seasoned warrior, he crossed the room and took a seat across from Sanada.

Then, in a voice as calm as it was friendly, he spoke.

"Sanada, it's been a while! You look so old now—have you been eating properly these days?"

The heavy atmosphere dissolved instantly as Sanada let out a chuckle.

"Very funny, Sakumo. My diet is perfectly fine. You, on the other hand, look more like a dog than the last time I saw you."

They stared at each other for a moment, then burst into unrestrained laughter.

Only in moments like these—far from prying eyes and suffocating clan politics—could they afford to drop their masks and speak as old friends.

Sakumo removed his mask, revealing a handsome, middle-aged face, his silver hair slightly unkempt but suiting his relaxed demeanor.

"It's a pity I can't stay to reminisce about the past," he said with a wistful smile. "I miss the sake your clan used to brew."

Sanada let out a heavy sigh, nodding in understanding. He, too, missed the days when life was simpler—when duty hadn't yet weighed down on his shoulders.

But the past was the past.

His sharp gaze flickered back to Sakumo, the moment of nostalgia fading.

"Well then, what does that old bastard want this time?" His voice dropped slightly, laced with irritation. "If it wasn't something important, he wouldn't have sent you."

Sakumo hesitated.

For a moment, he seemed uncertain, his usual confidence wavering ever so slightly.

"You better look at it yourself," he said at last.

Without another word, he extended a sealed letter, placing it carefully on the table.

Sanada's eyes narrowed as he reached forward, his fingers brushing against the smooth parchment.

Even before opening it, he could feel it—this was no ordinary summons.

After a while, Sanada's expression shifted—first one of confusion, then helplessness.

He couldn't quite grasp what Hiruzen was planning.

The contents of the letter were unexpected.

In summary, the Third Hokage had taken notice of Hyuga Yuuki's talent and saw an opportunity to strengthen the bond between the Hokage faction and the Hyuga clan.

To that end, Hiruzen proposed taking Yuuki in, offering him the chance to become an apprentice under one of the Hokage's students after graduating from the academy.

Most likely, Lord Jiraiya—if Sanada's expectations were correct.

Right below that, another request was written in careful words.

The clan was to cease all persecution of Hyuga Yuuki on the grounds that his previous defiant words were nothing more than childish bravado—a mere attempt to impress a girl he likely had a schoolboy crush on.

In other words, just children being children.

Sanada's expression turned ugly at the thought of who that girl was.

Uzumaki Kushina.

His thoughts were impossible to decipher, his mind calculating all possible outcomes.

Finally, he exhaled slowly, whispering to himself:

"Is this a blessing or a curse?"

He nodded once toward Sakumo, who understood the silent dismissal and stood up.

With a final glance, Sakumo Hatake left without another word.

Sanada remained seated, staring at the letter for a long moment before letting out a long sigh.

Then, he called for the guard.

Once the man arrived, Sanada's orders were firm.

"From now on, no one is allowed to attack Hyuga Yuuki under the pretense of sparring."

The words rang through the empty hall, marking a shift in Yuuki's fate—one that no one in the clan could have expected.

As for Yuuki, the very subject of the Hyuga Clan's secret meeting, he remained completely oblivious to the discussions shaping his fate.

At the Ninja Academy, his focus was elsewhere—specifically, on the red-haired girl who had been acting strange ever since that day.

Whenever he approached, Kushina would blush furiously, stammer out a flimsy excuse, and rush off before he could get a word in.

At first, he didn't understand. Had he done something wrong?

Alas, Kushina herself didn't truly want to run away.

In fact, she didn't even know what she wanted.

Whenever she thought back to that moment—the way he had stepped in, defended her, stood tall against all odds—her face burned with an unexplainable embarrassment.

And so, she ran. Again and again.

Unfortunately for her, fate—or perhaps someone else's will—had different plans.

For some inexplicable reason, ever since that day, whenever the teacher assigned group activities, the same pattern emerged.

Yuuki and Kushina were always paired together.

Without fail.

The first few times, they were both confused. At first, it seemed like a coincidence. Then, after it kept happening, Yuuki began to wonder if the teacher had something against him.

Kushina, on the other hand, struggled internally every time she was forced to sit next to him, train with him, or work together on an assignment.

And yet—over time, that awkwardness faded.

Weeks turned to months.

The initial embarrassment slowly disappeared, replaced by something else.

Comfort.

Familiarity.

And without realizing it, they had grown closer.