I was wary, at first, of having my uphill neighbors be a clan such as the Iga, but after several years with little more happening than the occasional rogue male mountain sheep coming down and making a nuisance of itself in our gardens, I can say with some relief that the fears I had can be mostly dismissed. Indeed, some of the older sheep make quite lively conversationalists, although the ones that are the most bothersome tend to have a fixation on eating Hizashi's or my own hair.
Thankfully, the Iga girls, now that they've begun to grow into their mother's height, are more than happy to remove the bothersome creatures with a minimum of fuss. Of course, for an Iga, the minimum of fuss usually involves what looks to be a brawl of some kind with the animals to be removed. I have noticed what appears to be a distinctive kind of taijutsu, one that is wholly distinct from the Hitsuji style taught at the Academy.
Iga Raiko, the eldest, was by earlier today for one of the more… ill-tempered members of her family's herds, Kinoko. She calls him "Mushroom eating bastard"- I refer to him as "Mushroom" for the sake of decorum. Simply put, when I inquired as to whether there was a specific Taijutsu style being learned from the constant battling of their various rams, Iga-san replied that in fact there is a taijutsu style associated with their sheep herds, and indeed, the constant violent altercations with them are thus far the only viable method available to them of learning it. Perhaps I was prying, but I could not help but to enquire why, exactly, the Iga heirs had to learn from animals. Iga-san looked me in the eyes- and her eyes were quiet and still, piercing in their gaze.
"We learn from the sheep because our Mother ain't around to teach us anymore. The sheep teach us because our Mother asked them to. And it's not like we haven't had any formal instruction- Mother taught all of us the signature move of the style."
"And what, pray tell, is that?"
"Well- Here comes Kinoko now. I'll show you."
She then grabbed the charging ram by the horns and slammed her forehead into it's so hard I could feel the impact from where I stood on the porch. The sheep shifted and snorted, shoved and strained against her grasp- she slammed her head into it's again, once, twice, three times- by that third hit, the animal swayed drunkenly and flopped onto it's rear. She hauled it over her shoulders, nodded to me in some manner of respect, and walked out of the compound, back to the Iga's mountainside Fort.
I can fully dismiss the possibility of the Iga stealing any sort of secret about the Hyuuga fighting style- it would clash with theirs in a manner spectacular to witness.
I cannot dismiss the possibility that the Iga might develop a counter to the Gentle Fist that has never been considered. Therefore, they shall be watched carefully.