At the heart of the ancient Hyuga mansion, the training ground stood silent. Sacred, cold, and echoing with the whispers of generations—yet today, it was about to become something entirely different. The air wasn't just tense... it was charged—like the moment before a storm, or maybe the moment before something far more wicked.
Weapons lined the walls like jealous spectators—swords, spears, halberds—gleaming like voyeurs watching from the shadows. But the real heat wasn't coming from them.
It was coming from her.
"Sister," Hanabi's voice cut through the silence like silk on bare skin, smooth but laced with something darker. "Let's see who ends up on top today."
She stood there, cocky and radiant, arms folded under her barely-tight-enough training gi. Her light blue suit clung just a little too close to her curves, the belt tugging her waist tight, hips flexing as she tilted her head. Her short hair danced above her eyes, those eyes sharp and teasing, practically undressing her opponent with every glance. There wasn't a trace of innocence in that smirk. It was pure challenge… and just a bit of craving.
Hinata stood across from her, cheeks tinged pink, lip trembling between her teeth. Her heartbeat pounded like a drum. The white kimono she wore looked more ceremonial than practical, the family crest proudly embroidered—yet the fabric clung to her dampening skin. Her chest rose and fell just a bit faster than usual. She wasn't just nervous. She was flustered. And Hanabi knew it.
"Hanabi…" she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. She spread her arms into her fighting stance, but her hands trembled—not just from pressure, but from the intensity of the girl in front of her. She could feel Hanabi's gaze… lingering on her chest, her thighs… the way her clothes clung to her sweat-slick body.
Hanabi's lips parted in a slow smirk.
Then—boom.
A blur of blue lightning—Hanabi dashed forward like a cat playing with its prey. "Soft Fist: Wind-Breaking Strike!" Her palm flashed, aiming straight for Hinata's chest—not just to hit, but to feel. Hinata dodged, barely, but Hanabi's fingers grazed the fabric—sending a shiver down her spine.
Hinata twirled into her Kaiten defense, but Hanabi was already there, inside her guard. Her foot connected with Hinata's arm—not enough to break, but enough to own. Hinata stumbled back, her chest rising and falling faster, strands of hair clinging to her flushed face.
"You're still slow, big sister," Hanabi purred, licking her bottom lip. "But I'll make sure to train you properly after this..."
Hinata's eyes widened, her blush deepening—but she couldn't look away.
Hanabi didn't stop. She moved like a phantom in heat, her hands dancing around Hinata's body, palms grazing shoulders, waist, even teasing the edges of her hips. Each hit felt less like an attack… and more like a caress.
"Your body's soft, Sister," Hanabi teased. "No wonder the elders still keep you on display like a porcelain doll."
Hinata gasped, trying to keep up, her body trembling with every touch. Her clothes were sticking now—sweat soaking into her kimono, outlining her curves. Every time Hanabi struck, Hinata's body jolted—breasts bouncing, thighs tensing, mouth parting with soft, helpless gasps.
But she couldn't let it end like this.
"Eight Trigrams: Sixty-Four Palms!" she cried out, chakra bursting from her body in defiance.
She flew at Hanabi like a ghost on fire, her hands tapping rapidly—chest to shoulder, ribs to hips—but Hanabi danced around her like a lover avoiding a kiss. Their bodies brushed—chest against chest, thighs grazing. It was less of a battle now and more of a ritual. A dance of dominance.
Hanabi chuckled darkly. "You like it when I'm this close, don't you?" she whispered in her ear mid-spin, warm breath sending shivers down Hinata's neck. "Your body reacts every time I touch you... look how hard you're breathing."
Hinata's next attack faltered—just for a moment.
That was all it took.
"Soft Fist: Secret – Breaking the Air, Splitting the Earth!"
The raw force of Hanabi's chakra sent Hinata flying backward. Her body twirled in the air, her kimono fluttering open at the edges, just enough to flash pale skin beneath.
She hit the ground hard, gasping, chest heaving, body twitching under the heat of pain... and something else.
Hanabi stalked forward, her steps slow and deliberate. She crouched down beside her older sister, reaching out—brushing a strand of sweaty hair from her cheek. Her fingers lingered a little too long.
"You lost, Sister." Her voice was soft... intimate... dominant. "But don't worry. I'll take real good care of you. Maybe next time, I'll let you be on top."
Hinata couldn't speak. She could barely breathe. Her heart was hammering, her body a mix of shame, desire, and raw, aching defeat. Her thighs pressed together instinctively, her lips parted, a single breathy moan escaping before she bit it back.
And then—click.
The cold voices of the elders pierced the haze like a slap.
"Well, well…" one elder murmured from the shadows. "Seems Miss Hanabi is more suited for leadership… and perhaps more suited to handling her sister as well."
They were watching. They had seen it all.
But Hinata didn't care anymore.
All she could think about was Hanabi's fingers… her touch… her heat.
This wasn't just a battle for the heir's title anymore.
It had turned into something far more dangerous.
And far more addictive.
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