Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

 After another grueling training session, Sakura headed home, exhausted. Training with Naruto and Sasuke had been an eye-opener for her. She realized that, out of all her teammates, she was the only one who didn’t really have any clear goals in mind, and that realization stung.

Naruto, despite his brash attitude, had a dream of becoming Hokage. Even though she didn’t want to admit it, he seemed to have enough talent and dedication to achieve it. Sasuke, on the other hand, was driven solely by revenge, which terrified Sakura. But even with his twisted motives, he still had a reason to be a shinobi.

Sakura had none of that. Every child had to attend the ninja academy, and so did she. But if she were being honest, she never really expected to be anything more than a Chūnin. At the time she graduated, it didn’t bother her much—the most important thing for her was for Sasuke to notice her. Now, however, she was disgusted with herself, because she was starting to understand just how cruel the shinobi world could be.

As she walked the quiet streets of Konoha, she felt increasing guilt about how she had treated her team. Her thoughts wouldn’t leave her alone, so she decided to head to one of the nearby training grounds. On her way there, she saw someone she recognized—someone she’d seen many times before but never really spoken to. It was the quiet, shy girl from the academy, Hinata Hyūga. Sakura had always known her as the one who, due to her nature, lost her position as the heiress of Konoha’s most powerful clan.

Sakura had never had a chance to talk to Hinata back at the academy. She’d always seemed closed off for someone of her status. Sakura wasn’t in the mood for a conversation, so she decided to turn toward another training ground. But as she turned, she noticed something that stopped her in her tracks—Hinata was crying.

In that moment, Sakura felt lost. She didn’t know what to do. As she stared at her, she saw that Hinata’s small hands were covered in blood, and so was the tree she had been training her taijutsu on.

Sakura’s worry for the girl’s health overwhelmed her, and without a second thought, she decided to approach her.

Hinata had an unfortunate day. She had been on a mission that ended with one of her teammates suffering a broken rib, while the other would need bed rest. When her father found out that she had been unable to do anything but stand aside and watch, he ordered her to have a sparring match with Neji. Even after Neji had beaten her, her father was still unsatisfied, his face locked in a look of disgust as he called the final match.

Neji wasn’t exactly friendly either, but Hinata understood his reasoning. After all, he was more talented than her. But the most important factor was the caged-bird seal, hidden behind his headband. It haunted the existence of every side-branch member of the Hyūga clan.

But Neji’s hatred for her came from another source—he blamed her for his father’s death. Hinata felt an undeniable guilt about that. If only she had been stronger, perhaps her cousin wouldn’t despise her so much.

After the match, she had no desire to remain in the Hyūga compound. So instead of resting, she decided to train.

She struck the tree again and again, her fists connecting with the rough bark as she practiced her stances and strikes. Every movement was a desperate attempt to master the Hyūga clan's famed Taijutsu  style. But the more she struck, the more the bitter truth pressed in on her. Her father had been right: she was useless. Unfit to be the heiress. Unfit to be a true ninja.

Tears welled in her lavender eyes, blurring her vision. Her legs trembled, buckling under the weight of the crushing realization. Slowly, she sank to the ground, her body failing her just as her spirit had.

In that moment, everything she had fought for—the countless hours of training, the endless striving to prove herself—felt meaningless. She would always be a failure in their eyes. No matter how hard she tried, she would never be enough.

As Hinata’s sobs echoed in the silence of the forest, a gentle hand touched her back. Startled, she looked up to find someone she hadn’t expected. It was Sakura Haruno—a girl with vibrant pink hair and shining green eyes. Sakura’s presence seemed to glow, radiating the kind of confidence and warmth that always made her seem as delicate and beautiful as a cherry blossom in full bloom.

For a moment, Hinata froze. She flinched, bracing herself for the sting of harsh words. She had heard enough of those from her family. She feared Sakura would say what everyone else had—that she was weak, useless, and unfit. But to her surprise, Sakura didn’t speak a single word.

There was only silence. But in that silence, Hinata could feel something unexpected—understanding, perhaps, or even a quiet form of compassion. It was the last thing she had expected, and yet, it was the first thing she needed.

Sakura couldn’t quite understand why she felt compelled to comfort Hinata. They weren’t close—barely acquaintances, really. But when she saw Hinata collapse to her knees, a sudden instinct flared in her. She couldn’t just walk away. She had to do something. Anything.

As Hinata’s sobs slowly subsided, an awkward silence fell between them. Neither knew what to say next. It was Sakura who finally broke the stillness.

“What a coincidence," she said, trying to keep her voice light. "I was just on my way home from training, but I decided to stay a little longer. The Chūnin Exams are just around the corner, and Kakashi-sensei said we’re allowed to take part. What about your team, Hinata? Are you guys going to participate?”

Hinata slowly lifted her head, her swollen eyes meeting Sakura’s with a quiet hesitance. “Yes... Kurenai-sensei said that we will participate,” she replied in a soft, almost whispering voice.

For a moment, there was another lull in their conversation, a comforting silence that hung between them. But Sakura, always the one to push through awkwardness, decided to speak again.

“I see… so that’s why you’ve been training so hard,” Sakura said, her voice warm yet filled with concern. “But, Hinata-san, you shouldn’t be training like this on your own. You’re pushing yourself too hard without anyone to supervise. Isn’t the Hyūga clan’s jutsu too dangerous to practice alone like this?”

Sakura smiled gently, but her words caused Hinata to tense up again. She looked as if she wanted to withdraw even further, but Sakura didn’t expect an answer right away. Instead, she pulled out her medical kit and began tending to Hinata’s bruised hands, her touch soft but steady.

As Sakura cleaned the cuts, Hinata, still barely able to speak above a whisper, began to talk. At first, her voice was so soft that Sakura could barely hear her, even though they were sitting right next to each other. But as she spoke more, her words grew clearer and stronger, and though Sakura didn’t fully understand the technical details of the Hyūga style, she listened intently, giving Hinata the space to express herself.

Though Sakura didn’t fully understand  taijutsu—other than what she had learned in the academy—she couldn’t help but be impressed by Hinata’s dedication. Her training regimen was intense, driven by a level of determination that Sakura admired. In fact, it made her realize just how little she’d been pushing herself lately.

A twinge of jealousy flickered in Sakura’s green eyes. She wished she had the same talent and resolve that Hinata seemed to carry effortlessly. But then again, it wasn’t surprising. Hinata was from one of the most powerful clans in Konoha. Sakura, on the other hand, was the child of civilian parents. Her strength had always been in her grades, her chakra control—not exactly the makings of a great ninja.

Sakura sighed. Even if she was jealous, it didn’t matter right now. She glanced over at Hinata, who had fallen silent, her explanation complete. Looking up at the star-filled sky, Sakura spoke in a quiet voice, barely above a whisper.

"You’re amazing, Hinata-san. You train so hard, and you have so much more potential than I do... I can’t help but feel... jealous of you."

The words hung in the air for a moment, and Hinata stared at her, her expression puzzled. Then, slowly, tears began to well up in her eyes.

"You shouldn’t say things like that about me, Sakura-san…" Hinata’s voice cracked as she spoke. "I’m my family’s disappointment. When I go home, my father won’t even look at me. My cousin despises me, and the elders… they want to mark me with a caged bird seal.” Her voice faltered, and more tears began to fall. “If only I had even an ounce of the confidence you possess, Sakura-san… maybe I’d be worth something. But right now… I’m just useless."

Sakura was stunned by Hinata’s confession. The weight of those words hit her hard. She could feel her own eyes welling up with tears. Without thinking, she reached out and gently took Hinata’s hand in hers.

“You are not useless, Hinata,” Sakura said, her voice trembling. “If anyone thinks that, then they’re the ones who are wrong. You’re strong—stronger than most people will ever understand. Despite all the disrespect you’ve faced, you keep training, you keep pushing yourself. Out of the two of us, it’s me who feels useless.”

As the words left her lips, tears spilled down her face as she sobbed alongside Hinata. For a few minutes, the two of them cried together, each finding some solace in the shared vulnerability.

When the sobs finally stopped, they both sat in a quiet, somewhat peaceful silence. Sakura had bandaged Hinata’s hands, and now Hinata gazed down at them, a small, grateful smile tugging at her lips. She looked at Sakura for a long moment before speaking again, her voice soft but firm.

"What if… we helped each other, Sakura-san?"

Chapter Text

At first, Sakura didn’t fully understand where Hinata was going with her proposal. She sat in silence as Hinata began to apologize.

“I’m sorry, Sakura-san,” Hinata said softly. “I know how busy you are with your training. I shouldn’t have proposed something like that. And besides, it’s not like I could really help you with anything…”

Sakura was taken aback by the apology, but she quickly understood why Hinata felt that way. She, too, often thought she was just getting in the way of others. But the more Sakura thought about the situation, the more she realized that Hinata’s proposal might not be such a bad idea after all.

Taking a deep breath, Sakura decided to embrace the opportunity. “You don’t have to apologize, Hinata,” she said with a reassuring smile. “I think your idea is actually really good. You can teach me more about Taijutsu, and we can become training partners. And while I might not be able to teach you much in return, I do think I could help you with your confidence issues.”

Hinata blinked, surprised by Sakura’s response. Before she could say anything, Sakura continued, “The Chunin Exams might be an issue since we’ll be on separate teams, but… at the end of the day, both of us are Konoha shinobi. We should help each other out, so we can protect the village. That’s what true ninjas do, right?”

At first, Hinata blinked in confusion, but as soon as she understood what Sakura was saying, she let out a relieved sigh. At least one person believed she was more than a failure. A bright smile spread across her face as she met Sakura’s gaze, her lavender eyes now filled with determination.

“I think you’re right, Sakura-san,” Hinata said, her voice steady. “We could train together and become better ninjas for the village.”

Sakura’s fierce voice cut through the air as she responded, “Then we need to make a training plan that suits both of us. How should we begin?”

Hinata listened intently as Sakura continued, “It’s probably best to start with chakra control. After all, it’s fundamental to everything ninjutsu-related.”

Hinata nodded, her eyes still focused on Sakura. “You’re right, Sakura-san. Chakra control is the most important skill for a ninja. But when should we start? We still need a solid training regimen,” she asked shyly.

Sakura paused for a moment, thinking carefully. She knew that what they were about to do would require a solid plan. Though she was smart, she wasn’t sure if she had all the answers. Maybe they should begin in the library to gather more knowledge, then move on to physical training. But before she could voice her thoughts, someone approached them on the training grounds.

Kurenai Yuhi, a Jonin of Konoha and mistress of Genjutsu, was walking home after a mission that hadn’t gone as well as she had hoped. She never really wanted to take on the mantle of Jonin sensei. She had always felt that she didn’t possess the strength or experience to train Genin, who were only beginning to learn just how cruel the world could be.

But nonetheless, she had a team. At first, she didn’t feel much affection toward them, viewing them merely as students she had to teach. However, as time passed, her feelings shifted. She began to care for them deeply, especially Hinata.

When Hinata became a Genin, Kurenai had to deliver the harsh truth to her father about the dangers of the ninja world, particularly for someone of Hinata’s status. But her concerns were dismissed. In her father’s eyes, Hinata was weak, too soft to be the heir of the Hyuga clan.

Kurenai disagreed with that view. Despite the challenges, Hinata had worked relentlessly, determined not to disappoint her team or her clan. Kurenai made a promise to herself that she would help Hinata in any way she could.

Having just left the hospital after checking on Kiba and Shino, who were both recovering well, Kurenai felt a weight lifted from her shoulders. On her way home, she decided to stop by the Hyuga compound to check on Hinata. She was told that Hinata was having a late-night training session by herself at the training grounds. Without hesitation, Kurenai changed course to find her. She worried that Hinata might be overworking herself and pushing her body too hard in the process.

When she arrived at the training grounds, Kurenai saw something unusual. At first, she noticed Hinata talking with one of her former classmates—one of Kakashi’s students. Kurenai didn’t think much of it at first, but as she got closer, she overheard their conversation. They were talking about their weaknesses and how they both wanted to become stronger for the sake of the village.

Kurenai felt a surge of emotion as she listened to their words. She was moved by their determination and the sincerity of their resolve. As they began discussing a training plan, Kurenai decided to approach them.

When Hinata saw who was approaching, she relaxed a bit. It was her team leader, Kurenai-sensei. Hinata appreciated how Kurenai always tried to show her that she wasn’t as disgraceful as her clan elders made her feel.

Kurenai greeted them with a warm smile and sat down next to them. There was a thoughtful look in her eyes, as if she was processing something.

“You must be Kakashi’s little kunoichi, right?” Kurenai-sensei asked, turning her gaze to Sakura.

Sakura nodded and introduced herself, exchanging pleasantries with their sensei. After a brief silence, Kurenai sighed, her expression softening. Hinata couldn’t shake the feeling that Kurenai had overheard their earlier conversation. She didn’t know if she should be relieved or anxious about it.

After a brief pause, Kurenai’s eyes sparkled with a small, understanding smile.

“I heard you two are planning to train for the Chunin Exams,” she said, glancing between Sakura and Hinata. Neither of them weres surprised by the comment.

“When I came here tonight,” Kurenai continued, her voice lighter, “I wanted to reassure Hinata that she wasn’t holding the team back.” She chuckled softly. “I never thought I’d need to reassure two little kunoichis.”

Kurenai smiled at them fondly. “I know what you might be thinking. After all, I’m one of the weakest Jonins in my age group.”

Both Sakura and Hinata exchanged a confused glance. Most Jonins took pride in their strength, so hearing Kurenai talk like that was unexpected. The idea of her feeling inadequate compared to other Jonins made them feel oddly sorry for her. Becoming a Jonin was no small feat—it was a huge accomplishment in the shinobi world.

“But that doesn’t mean I didn’t get here,” Kurenai added, her smile still warm. “I’ve faced challenges just like you will. And that’s what will make you stronger.”

Kurenai-sensei's eyes began to fill with tears, as if she were reminiscing about the hardest part of her life. Yet, she never let a single tear fall.

"It warms my heart to see young kunoichis like you two," she said softly. "Determined to carve your own path in this world."

She grinned from ear to ear, her expression filled with pride. "And I would love to help you on this journey. After all, if you put your heart and soul into it, I have no doubt that both of you will become a force to be reckoned with."

Chapter Text

The very next day, both girls stood on the same training ground as the day before. After their heartfelt conversation last night, they had agreed to discuss their training plans later.

At exactly 7 AM, all three of them gathered to finalize their plans. Since both of their teams would begin training in a few hours, they decided to use this time to form a structured approach. First, Kurenai wanted to determine what was most crucial for Sakura’s training. She had trained with Hinata before and had a good grasp of her abilities. However, when it came to Sakura, she had her doubts—especially regarding Kakashi’s teaching.

From what she had heard, Kakashi spent most of his time training the last Uchiha survivor. While he did work with Naruto, she doubted it would be enough. She made a mental note to bring this up with him later.

Kurenai’s first priority was to assess Sakura’s chakra control, which, to her surprise, was incredibly impressive for someone of her age and background. She then tested her basic taijutsu stances—they were solid but wouldn’t get her far in the Chūnin Exams. Her aim was decent, but what shocked Kurenai the most was that Sakura had never learned any elemental jutsu. Considering her excellent chakra control, this was an unexpected and frustrating discovery.

Although Sakura needed improvement in several areas, Kurenai decided to start with genjutsu training. With her level of chakra control, it should come naturally to her. She also made a mental note to punch Kakashi in the face for neglecting Sakura’s training. With the potential she had, she could easily become one of the most powerful kunoichi in Konoha. Additionally, she realized that Sakura could also excel as a medical-nin if she chose to pursue that path.

After the sparring session, Kurenai sat down with both girls, ready for a long conversation. She turned to Hinata first.

“Hinata, today I won’t be doing an evaluation for you since I already know your strengths and weaknesses.” She paused before shifting her gaze to Sakura.

“As for you, Sakura,” she continued, “I want to make something very clear—you, just like Hinata, have the potential to become  strong kunoichis . It baffles me that Kakashi never trained you in genjutsu or even recommended medical ninjutsu. With your level of chakra control, both would come easily to you. And don’t even get me started on the fact that he never taught you a single elemental jutsu!” Kurenai let out an exasperated sigh. “I swear, I’m going to tear your sensei to shreds for this.”

With that, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper. “Sakura, this chakra affinity paper will reveal your elemental nature when you pour your chakra into it.”

Sakura’s eyes lit up with excitement as she eagerly took the paper in her hands. Pouring her chakra into it, she watched in amazement as the paper crumbled into dust.

Kurenai’s eyes narrowed slightly, nodding in understanding. She stood up. “Sakura, your primary affinity is Earth Release. Starting tomorrow, I will begin your training in genjutsu, and I’ll also teach you some basic Earth Release techniques.” She then turned to Hinata. “Hinata, even though today’s focus was on Sakura, you should know that we’ll be intensifying your Lightning Release training as well, along with additional taijutsu exercises.”

She placed her hands on her hips and gave both girls a firm yet encouraging look. “Now, both of you are dismissed. And remember—do not be late. In the ninja world, being late can have heavy consequences.”

With that, their training journey had officially begun.

Hinata and Sakura walked through the busy streets of Konoha as people bustled about, preparing for the day ahead. After an intense training session, they decided to grab a meal together and stopped by a takoyaki kiosk.

Sakura was delighted to discover that she had at least some potential. She couldn't stop beaming at the news she had received from Kurenai. For the first time, she saw herself as more than just a boy-crazy girl, and it felt liberating—almost as if she had shed a heavy burden.

As they continued walking, Sakura spotted a familiar bright orange jumpsuit. Naruto was as energetic as ever, eating at Ichiraku Ramen, just as he always did. However, what surprised her was the sight of Sasuke sitting beside him. She hadn't expected that, but she chose to brush it off.

At that moment, she noticed Hinata turning bright red, mumbling nervously. Before Sakura could say a word, Hinata suddenly ran off. If it had been anyone else, she might have been concerned, but Sakura understood Hinata’s struggles—and her feelings for Naruto. It was painfully obvious, yet somehow, Naruto remained completely oblivious. Then again, she didn’t expect him to be particularly perceptive in that regard.

As she approached, Naruto greeted her with his trademark grin, while Sasuke, as usual, didn’t even spare her a glance. That stung a little. By now, she had come to terms with the fact that Sasuke had no interest in her—at least not in the way she had once hoped.

Yesterday’s talk with Hinata and Kurenai-sensei had changed her perspective. She realized her crush on Sasuke wasn’t nearly as important as her growth as a kunoichi. From that moment on, she decided to focus on becoming a strong and capable ninja—not for him, but for herself and the village.

And if Sasuke wanted nothing more than a teammate, then that’s exactly what she would be. It wouldn’t be easy, but she was determined to move forward.

-

Hinata ran as fast as she could. No matter how hard she tried, she still couldn’t face him without turning into a mess. So, she did the only thing she could—she ran away.

She knew she had made a mistake. After all, she hadn’t even explained anything to Sakura before dashing off. But what was done was done.

As she slowed her pace, she decided to walk around for a bit. Yesterday had been a wake-up call—there were so many things she needed to do to prove herself to her clan. But even after exhausting herself and going to bed, sleep never came. Her thoughts kept drifting to the Hyuga branch house.

Mostly, she thought of Neji and how difficult life must have been for him. After all, it was her fault that he was an orphan. If she had been stronger, her uncle would still be alive. She knew that because of the clan’s twisted traditions, they likely wouldn’t have had a perfect relationship—but at the very least, they might have been closer.

That was when she made up her mind.

She would do everything in her power to abolish the division between the main and branch houses. And she would do whatever it took to help Neji feel as valued as he deserved to be.

With these thoughts burning in her mind, she turned back toward the training grounds—ready for the next session with her team.

After her morning training session with Hinata and Sakura, Kurenai wasted no time. Within minutes, she stood in front of Kakashi’s house, ready to tear him a new one.

She understood that his life had been difficult, but that was no excuse for neglecting Sakura’s training the way he did. Without hesitation, she knocked on the door. She knew Kakashi was awake—after all, he had trouble sleeping—but he wasn’t answering. So, she let herself in.

Kakashi was lying in bed, his favorite romance novel in hand.

He glanced at Kurenai and greeted her. “Hey, Kurenai. I wasn’t expecting to see you today,” he said, smiling lazily behind his mask. “What’s the occasion?”

Kurenai sat down on the sofa, and Kakashi dragged his feet before plopping down across from her.

“I thought you’d be with Asuma. The two of you barely get any time together,” Kakashi remarked. “Or… have you come to me for love advice?” He asked teasingly. “You know I’m the last person to ask when it comes to emotions.” He chuckled at his own joke, but he could tell she hadn’t come for lighthearted banter. If this were about a mission, the ANBU would have barged in—so whatever it was, it was personal.

After a few seconds of tense silence, Kurenai suddenly lunged forward and threw a punch at him. He barely dodged it in time. But she didn’t stop—she kept attacking.

Kakashi was used to people wanting to fight him—or even kill him—but he hadn’t expected Kurenai to be one of them.

Then, just as suddenly, she stopped and sat back down. Her expression darkened as she asked, “Tell me, Kakashi… why haven’t you been properly training Sakura Haruno? And not just her—why have you been neglecting Naruto’s training? You know how important it is to prepare him properly, yet you’ve only been focusing on the Uchiha.”

Kakashi stared at her, momentarily at a loss for words. He hadn’t expected her to storm into his house and demand an explanation for his teaching methods. But he couldn’t deny it—everything she said was true.

He had neglected Naruto’s training. Not only that—he sometimes avoided him altogether. He couldn’t look at the boy without feeling overwhelming guilt over his sensei’s death.

And as for Sakura… he didn’t even know what to do with her. A part of him had hoped she would give up being a ninja. He didn’t want to see her die. Maybe, deep down, he had deliberately neglected her, hoping she would quit before she got herself killed.

Kurenai studied his face. She could tell this wasn’t something he was unaware of—he knew exactly what he was doing, and yet, he had done nothing to change.

She sighed, releasing a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“Kakashi, I know you care about them, but you need to train all of them. Otherwise, they’ll be in even greater danger. This world is ruthless—you, of all people, know that better than anyone. So please… take their training more seriously.”

She stood up and walked toward the door. Just before leaving, she turned back to him.

“I’ve decided to train Sakura alongside Hinata so they’ll be better prepared for whatever life throws at them,” she said. And with that, she walked out.

Kakashi sat in silence, his face grim.

Kurenai had forced him to face the truth he had been avoiding for so long. And even though he preferred to keep running from it… he knew her words had been nothing but the gut-wrenching truth.

Team 7 had been waiting for their sensei at the training ground for over 40 minutes, which wasn’t surprising—Kakashi-sensei was practically always late. But this time, something was different. When he arrived, he didn’t bother making excuses for his tardiness. Instead, he simply stated that from today onward, their training would become even more intense.

He started by having Sasuke and Naruto spar.

"I’m giving you two hours for sparring," he said. "Afterward, I expect insights about each other. I want both of you to focus on identifying each other’s strengths and weaknesses."

It was rare to see him this serious. As the boys prepared to fight, Sakura assumed she would be doing basic exercises as usual. But just as she was about to begin her routine, Kakashi-sensei stopped her.

"Sakura," he called. "Today, we’ll begin more serious training. I’m going to teach you how to perform basic genjutsu, and then you’ll learn how to dispel it."

Sakura stared at him in surprise—she hadn’t expected him to take her training this seriously.

When Naruto and Sasuke overheard, they immediately protested.

Naruto was the first to speak. "Why does Sakura get to train in genjutsu while we’re stuck with basic hand-to-hand combat?"

Sasuke followed, his usual smirk in place. "It would make more sense to teach all of us the basics of genjutsu and how to counter it. Not that I struggle with it as much as these two," he added smugly, "but that would be far better than being stuck with this idiot for two hours."

Kakashi remained unfazed. "Genjutsu requires a high level of chakra control, something Sakura excels at—better than the two of you combined. That’s why she’s learning the basics today. You two, on the other hand, are so terrible at it that it would take me days just to explain the fundamentals."

His gaze shifted to Sasuke. "And Sasuke, while your Sharingan gives you an advantage, it doesn’t mean you’ll master genjutsu in a day. Your chakra control still needs work."

He crossed his arms and sighed. "Now, stop wasting my time and start training."

Sakura stood in the training field, waiting for Kakashi-sensei to give her instructions. But, as usual, he was engrossed in Icha Icha Paradise, casually flipping through its pages as if she weren’t even there.

She huffed in frustration. Why is he always like this?

“Sensei,” she said, crossing her arms. “Are you actually going to explain anything, or are we just here to admire the scenery?”

Still, he didn’t respond. But a few seconds later, an eerie sensation crawled up her spine—like someone was standing too close, breathing down her neck.

Her muscles tensed. I didn’t hear him move. How—

Then it clicked. Genjutsu.

Instead of panicking, Sakura forced herself to focus. Think, Sakura. What did the academy teach about Genjutsu?

Genjutsu users manipulate the target’s senses, creating illusions so convincing that the mind accepts them as reality. The best way to break free was to disrupt one’s own chakra flow.

Closing her eyes, she centered herself, channeling chakra through her system before forming a hand seal.

“Kai!”

In an instant, the illusion shattered. When she opened her eyes, Kakashi was standing right beside her, his lone visible eye curving into an amused smile behind his mask.

“Well, you’re definitely better than Kurenai described,” he mused. “I think you’ll learn Genjutsu faster than I originally planned.”

Sakura blinked. “Wait… Kurenai-sensei talked to you about my training?”

“Yes, she did,” Kakashi admitted. “And she was very, very angry with me.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “Which I completely understand. I was neglectful of your training—but that won’t be the case moving forward.”

Sakura nodded, absorbing his words. It was rare to hear him take responsibility so directly.

“It’s good that you can dispel Genjutsu,” Kakashi continued, “but that alone isn’t enough. Now, I want you to cast one on me.”

Sakura’s eyes widened. “But sensei, I’ve never learned how to do that! The academy never taught us.”

At that, Kakashi facepalmed. “The more time passes, the more useless that place becomes…” he muttered.

Then he straightened and gestured for her to watch closely. “Alright, repeat after me.”

Weaving a quick set of hand seals, he demonstrated the technique. Sakura mimicked his movements, carefully molding her chakra. A thin mist began to spread across the training ground.

It worked!

Or so she thought.

With a single flicker of chakra, Kakashi shattered the illusion almost instantly.

He looked at her with his usual unreadable expression. “Not bad for a first attempt. But this won’t be enough against stronger opponents.”

Sakura clenched her fists. “Then what am I supposed to do to make it stronger?”

Kakashi tilted his head, a little surprised by her determination. “Relax, Sakura. You’ll improve with practice.” Then, his voice turned serious. “But you need to understand this—Genjutsu isn’t just a cheap trick. It’s a powerful tool of psychological warfare.”

She listened intently as he continued.

“To trap a strong opponent, you need to structure your Genjutsu carefully. Think about their strengths and weaknesses. Genjutsu isn’t about brute force—it’s about deception.” His eye sharpened. “The best illusions are layered—one trap hidden inside another.”

Sakura’s breath hitched. “A trick… hidden inside a trick?”

“Exactly,” Kakashi confirmed. “For example, there are different types of Genjutsu. Some are sound-based, affecting the opponent just by hearing them. The Sharingan uses eye contact to manipulate the mind directly. But at the core of all Genjutsu is one simple rule—you must fool the senses.”

He stepped back, motioning for her to try again.

Sakura stood up, determination burning in her eyes. She wove the hand seals once more, and this time, when the mist appeared, she didn’t stop there. She added another layer—an illusion of herself disappearing into thin air.

For a moment, she thought she had done it.

But then—

Her stomach dropped.

Kakashi-sensei isn’t there anymore.

A shiver ran down her spine, and before she could react—

“Rule number one of casting Genjutsu,” came Kakashi’s voice from right behind her. “Always make sure you yourself aren’t caught in one.”

Sakura turned sharply, eyes wide. Kakashi stood behind her, completely unharmed by her illusion.

She gritted her teeth. Damn it…

He chuckled. “Not bad, though. Let’s go again.”

And with that, the real training began.

After their training session, Hinata remained on the field, her hands clenched into fists. Even though she now had more support than before, she still felt it wasn’t enough. If she truly wanted to change the Hyūga clan, she needed to push herself harder.

Kurenai-sensei, noticing her lingering presence, approached with concern. “Hinata, why haven’t you gone home yet? You’ve already trained hard today.”

Hinata hesitated, her gaze dropping to the ground. She mumbled something too soft to hear, then took a deep breath and looked up.

“Kurenai-sensei,” she said, determination burning in her lavender eyes, “I need a new training regimen.”

Kurenai frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

Hinata hesitated again, struggling to find the right words. “I am grateful for everything you’ve taught me,” she said quietly. “But… if I want to change the Hyūga clan, I need someone who can teach me our clan’s techniques. I need training in Gentle Fist.”

Kurenai’s eyes widened. She wants to train with a Hyūga?

This was a drastic change. For years, Hinata had been hesitant, almost afraid of her clan. To see her now, boldly asking for additional training, was almost unbelievable.

Kurenai crossed her arms, her expression serious. “I understand what you’re saying, Hinata. But who do you think would train you? After the way your father has treated you, most of the clan doesn’t take you seriously.”

Hinata flinched at the mention of her father but didn’t waver. She lowered her head in thought before speaking again.

“There is one Hyūga who would teach me.”

Kurenai’s brow furrowed. “Who?”

Hinata met her gaze with quiet resolve.

“Aria Hyūga.”

Kurenai stiffened. The name was familiar, but it took a moment for her to fully recall the story.

Aria Hyūga—Hiashi’s sister-in-law. Hinata’s aunt.

Aria had once been part of the Main Branch, but she had defied the clan elders, openly protesting the existence of the Caged Bird Seal. For her defiance, she had been branded with the very seal she despised and cast out of the Hyūga compound. Since then, she had lived on the outskirts of the village, completely isolated.

Kurenai’s expression darkened. “Hinata, this is dangerous,” she said sharply. “If anyone from the clan finds out, you could face serious consequences. You might end up like her.”

Hinata bit her lip, her hands trembling slightly. But then, with a deep breath, she steadied herself. “Sensei… it’s not like I won’t end up with the Caged Bird Seal anyway,” she said, her voice tinged with sadness. “I’m already a disgrace in their eyes. If I don’t act now, I’ll lose my chance to help the Branch Family before it’s too late.”

Kurenai inhaled sharply. The quiet girl she had trained for so long was standing in front of her, fully aware of the risks yet willing to fight anyway.

For the first time, Kurenai saw it clearly—Hinata wasn’t just kind, she was unwaveringly determined.

She sighed, rubbing her forehead. “You really won’t back down from this, will you?”

Hinata shook her head.

Kurenai closed her eyes for a moment, thinking. There was no changing Hinata’s mind. If she didn’t help her do this carefully, Hinata might go on her own and risk being caught.

Opening her eyes, Kurenai met Hinata’s determined gaze and nodded.

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll find a way to help you meet with Aria without your clan realizing.”

Hinata gasped softly, her eyes welling up with tears. She bowed deeply. “Thank you, Kurenai-sensei. This means so much to me.”

Kurenai placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, offering a small smile. “Go home and rest, Hinata. Tomorrow morning, we have training with Sakura.”

Hinata nodded, wiping her eyes before turning toward the Hyūga compound, determination still burning in her heart.

Chapter Text

By the time Kurenai reached her apartment, exhaustion weighed heavily on her shoulders.

Not only had she spent the morning arguing with Kakashi about Sakura’s training, but she had also agreed to help Hinata reach her disinherited relative—a decision that could have severe consequences for everyone involved. On top of that, Shino and Kiba needed extra training after their last mission, meaning she now had to come up with four different training plans… and a way to reach Aria Hyūga without the clan finding out.

She sighed, rubbing her temples. How did I get myself into this?

Deciding to clear her mind, she took a long shower, then brewed herself a cup of tea before sitting at her desk. She had just started drafting Kiba’s training regimen when—

Knock. Knock.

For a fleeting moment, her heart jumped. Asuma?

But then she remembered—he was on a mission.

As she stood to open the door, the knob turned on its own, and before she could react, Kakashi strolled right in like he owned the place.

“Yo,” he greeted casually, finally closing his ever-present book. “How are you doing, Kurenai?”

She exhaled, her fatigue catching up with her again. “I’m fine, Kakashi. Just working on training plans for my team.”

He nodded and, without waiting for an invitation, plopped onto her couch like it was his own.

She rolled her eyes. “Alright, what do you want?”

“I wanted to talk about Sakura’s training,” he said, stretching out lazily. “I started her Genjutsu lessons today, and while she’s picking it up quickly, I don’t want her to overwork herself. Since you’re the Genjutsu expert, I figured we could refine her training plan together.”

Kurenai stared at him. She had expected him to brush off her earlier confrontation, maybe even ignore it completely. But now? Here he was, actually listening to her.

“You’re… serious?” she asked, caught off guard.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Kakashi leaned back, resting his arm on the couch. “You were right, after all. I neglected her training—and Naruto’s, for that matter. I’d rather fix that now than regret it later.”

For a moment, Kurenai didn’t know what to say.

Then she nodded. “Yeah, overloading her with training could actually slow her progress. We need to balance Genjutsu practice with physical conditioning, so she doesn’t burn out.”

A comfortable silence settled between them.

Then, Kakashi sighed and spoke again. “Speaking of training… do you have any techniques I could teach Naruto? Something that takes advantage of his massive chakra reserves?”

Now that was unexpected.

Kurenai, having recovered from her initial surprise, crossed her arms in thought. “That’s tricky. We need to find a technique that fits him but won’t interfere with the seal on his stomach.”

Kakashi nodded. “Exactly.”

She leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm. “I have some ideas, but before we go into that…” She hesitated.

Kakashi’s visible eye narrowed slightly. “There’s something else you need help with?”

Kurenai exhaled, deciding to take the risk. “Kakashi… you know I’ve been helping Hinata train, right?”

He nodded. “Of course.”

“Well… she asked me to help her reach Aria Hyūga.”

Kakashi blinked, clearly surprised. “Hiashi’s exiled sister-in-law?”

“Yes,” Kurenai confirmed. “Hinata wants to train under her. The problem is that the Hyūga clan strictly forbids anyone from interacting with Aria. If we get caught, it could have serious consequences.”

Kakashi was silent for a long moment before he asked, “Does Hinata understand how dangerous this is?”

Kurenai’s expression darkened. “Yes. But she’s not backing down. She believes no one in the clan will take her seriously unless she masters the Gentle Fist. And… she doesn’t just want to get stronger—”

She paused before finally saying it out loud.

“She wants to abolish the Caged Bird Seal.”

At that, Kakashi finally sat up straight. His usual relaxed demeanor vanished, replaced with something unreadable.

“…She really said that?”

Kurenai nodded. “She’s serious about it.”

For a few seconds, Kakashi remained silent. Then, to Kurenai’s shock, he said:

“Well, if it’s about reaching Aria… I know a way to get there without the Hyūga clan knowing.”

Kurenai’s eyes widened. “You… do?”

Kakashi gave her a lazy shrug. “Of course. ANBU had to keep tabs on her for years after she was exiled. I know at least three different routes to get to her house unnoticed.”

Kurenai was stunned. This was too easy.

“…So you’ll help?” she asked cautiously.

He nodded. “Sure. But in exchange, you help me finalize Naruto and Sakura’s training plans.”

A small smile crept onto Kurenai’s lips. “Deal.”

Kakashi smirked. “Alright then. Let’s get started.”

Kurenai and Kakashi had spent the entire night creating detailed training plans for their students. To her surprise, Kakashi even suggested some techniques for Shino and Kiba, which she deeply appreciated.

Now, as she approached the training ground, she spotted two figures sitting together—Sakura and Hinata. The two girls were talking enthusiastically, their voices filled with energy.

When they noticed her, they stood up immediately, bowing respectfully.

“Good morning, Kurenai-sensei!” they greeted in unison.

A soft smile spread across Kurenai’s lips. She could tell they were genuinely excited about training today.

“Good morning, little kunoichis,” she said warmly. “Did the two of you sleep well?”

“I definitely did, sensei!” Sakura said eagerly. Then, as if remembering something, she blushed slightly. “Oh! And um… Kakashi-sensei told me that you talked to him about my training yesterday.” Her emerald eyes sparkled with happiness. “He actually started training me in Genjutsu!”

Kurenai smiled. So Kakashi followed through.

“Thank you, Kurenai-sensei,” Sakura added, bowing her head slightly.

Kurenai shook her head. “You don’t need to thank me, Sakura. A shinobi should be trained properly—I only reminded Kakashi of his duty.”

Before their conversation could continue, a lazy voice cut in.

“So… are you planning to trash my training methods again today?”

Kurenai turned to see Kakashi casually approaching, hands in his pockets, his book nowhere in sight for once.

She raised an eyebrow. “I mean… was I wrong about them?”

Kakashi let out a dramatic sigh before rubbing the back of his head. “No, you were right. I should have taken my role as a teacher more seriously.”

Kurenai smirked. At least he admits it.

Kakashi turned his attention to the girls. “Anyway, Kurenai and I spent the entire night refining your training plans, so we’ll be pushing both of you hard from now on.”

Sakura and Hinata exchanged a determined glance.

“So,” Kakashi continued, “Kurenai will be handling Sakura’s Genjutsu training today since she’s far better at it than I am.”

Sakura practically lit up with excitement.

“As for you, little Hyūga princess,” Kakashi said, turning to Hinata, “you and I will be sparring.”

Hinata froze. “S-Sparring?”

Kakashi nodded. “Since your goal is to change the Hyūga clan, you need to train seriously.” He paused for a moment before adding, “Besides… I heard you wanted to train with Aria.”

Hinata tensed instantly, her hands clutching the hem of her jacket.

Kakashi, noticing her reaction, raised a hand in a calm gesture. “Relax, I’m not going to rat you out.” His tone was light, but his eye sharpened slightly. “In fact, I know a way to reach her without the Hyūga clan noticing.”

Hinata’s breath hitched.

“…But let me tell you something,” Kakashi continued, voice turning more serious. “Your aunt? She’s a bitch.”

Hinata’s eyes widened in shock.

Kurenai shot him a pointed glare. “Kakashi.”

He shrugged. “What? It’s the truth.” Then, looking back at Hinata, he sighed. “I won’t sugarcoat it, Hinata—Aria wasn’t always like this, but she’s been isolated for years. She used to be kind, but time changes people. If you’re going to meet her, you need to be ready for her attitude.”

Hinata swallowed hard but nodded.

“Tomorrow, me, you, and Kurenai will visit her,” Kakashi said. “So prepare yourself.”

Hinata clenched her fists, her resolve strengthening. “I understand, Kakashi-sensei.”

Kakashi smirked under his mask. “Good.”

Then, his entire demeanor shifted as he stepped back, loosening his stance. “Now, let’s see what you can do,” he challenged, his voice laced with amusement. “Show me how powerful that Byakugan of yours really is.”

Hinata took a deep breath, then activated her Byakugan, veins surfacing around her eyes.

Kakashi-sensei… I won’t disappoint you.

And with that, she charged.

Kurenai stood with her arms crossed, carefully explaining the technicalities behind casting Genjutsu. She demonstrated the hand seals, the chakra flow, and the importance of controlling the target’s senses.

But despite her earlier determination, Sakura seemed distracted.

Kurenai narrowed her eyes. “Sakura, concentrate,” she said firmly. “If you don’t focus, you won’t be able to cast a proper Genjutsu.”

Sakura remained silent for a moment before finally speaking.

“…Hinata is up to something dangerous, isn’t she?” she asked, worry clear in her voice.

Kurenai blinked, momentarily caught off guard. She noticed?

Sakura clenched her fists, her gaze filled with concern. “I know it’s not really my business, but… I promised to help her.” She hesitated before adding, “And I want to keep my promise.”

Kurenai hadn’t expected Sakura to speak so seriously about Hinata—after all, they had only truly started talking two days ago. And yet, Sakura was already deeply invested in helping her.

Kurenai sighed. “Hinata is planning something risky,” she admitted. “But I can’t put your safety in danger, Sakura.”

Sakura bit her lip, clearly wanting to argue but holding back. Instead, she asked softly, “Then… could I at least ask her about what she’s planning?”

Kurenai studied her for a moment before finally nodding.

“Yes, you can ask,” she said. “But if she doesn’t want to talk about it, don’t push her. If you force the issue, she might close herself off even more than she already has.”

Sakura’s expression dimmed slightly, a hint of sadness flickering in her eyes.

Kurenai sighed, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Sakura… you might not realize it, but you’re already one of the most important people in Hinata’s life right now.”

Sakura’s eyes widened.

“You two have only been training together for a short time,” Kurenai continued, her voice warm, “but I can already see the positive influence you’ve had on her.”

She smiled softly. “Honestly? You’ve probably helped her even more than Naruto has.”

Sakura gasped softly, looking at her sensei with wide eyes.

For a moment, she was speechless. But then—slowly—her lips curled into a bright, determined smile.

“You’re right, sensei,” she said, renewed confidence in her voice. “I’m ready to start again.”

Kurenai smirked. “Good. Now, repeat after me.”

And with that, they resumed their training.

The morning sun cast long shadows across the training field as Hinata faced Kakashi, her Byakugan fully activated.

Kakashi stood calmly, hands in his pockets, his posture loose and unbothered. But Hinata knew better—his relaxed stance was nothing but a deception.

“Well then,” Kakashi said, his lone eye curving in amusement. “Let’s see if you’re ready to fight without hesitation.”

Hinata didn’t wait for an invitation.

She pushed forward, dashing low and fast, her hands glowing faintly with Gentle Fist chakra. She aimed for his tenketsu points, but just as her fingertips neared his ribs—

Kakashi vanished.

Hinata’s eyes widened as her Byakugan barely caught his movement—behind her!

She twisted just in time, raising her arms to block a downward strike—but the impact sent her stumbling back.

Kakashi tilted his head. “You’re watching me well. But just seeing an attack coming won’t save you if you’re not fast enough to react.”

Hinata gritted her teeth. He was right—her eyes could track him, but her body was still too slow.

She steadied her stance and charged again. This time, she tried to predict his counterattack, angling her movement to force him into a narrower evasion path.

As she lunged, she faked a strike to his shoulder—then shifted mid-motion, targeting his lower ribs instead.

For the first time, Kakashi had to actually dodge.

His body twisted, avoiding a direct hit, but Hinata adjusted—her left palm snapped forward toward his side.

Kakashi caught her wrist.

In a blink, she felt a tug—and suddenly, she was airborne, her feet leaving the ground.

With a swift movement, Kakashi threw her over his shoulder.

Hinata reacted instantly. Mid-flip, she twisted her body, realigning herself before landing on her feet.

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. “Now that’s better.”

But before Hinata could move again—

Poof.

A cloud of smoke erupted behind her.

Shadow clone.

She pivoted just in time to see the real Kakashi appearing from her right—mid-kick.

Hinata ducked low, the force of his kick whipping through the air above her. Instead of retreating, she used the momentum of her dodge to lunge forward—aiming a quick palm strike to his knee.

Kakashi barely managed to twist away.

Her Byakugan caught it immediately—he had to shift his balance.

Now!

Hinata pressed forward, striking faster, aiming for his center of gravity. If she could disrupt his balance—

But just as she moved in, her world blurred.

She gasped as Kakashi’s presence multiplied—two, then three, then four.

Genjutsu!

She staggered, the images around her distorting. Which one is real?

Then, she remembered her training.

Think, Hinata. What did Kurenai-sensei say?

She closed her eyes for a split second, blocking out everything but her chakra senses.

Her Byakugan flared.

There!

She turned sharply, striking the space in front of her—where no one seemed to be.

Kakashi appeared out of thin air, barely dodging the attack.

“Well, well,” he said, stepping back, visibly impressed. “You broke out of that faster than I expected.”

Hinata was breathing heavily now, sweat forming at her brow. She had countered his Genjutsu without outside help.

As Hinata pushed herself up, breathing heavily, Kakashi watched her carefully.

Then, he sighed and shook his head.

“That’s enough for today.”

Hinata froze mid-motion, her body tensing. Enough?

She expected him to push her harder, to tell her she needed to do better. But instead, he simply studied her with a faint frown.

“You definitely have potential,” he admitted, his usual smirk hidden behind his mask. “But your biggest weakness… isn’t your technique.”

Hinata swallowed, her fists clenching slightly.

“You don’t believe in yourself,” Kakashi continued, his tone calm but firm. “And that doubt? It’s holding you back.”

She looked down, her mind racing.

It wasn’t that she didn’t know this—she did. She had always struggled with self-doubt, but hearing it so plainly from someone like Kakashi made it feel… different.

More real.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then, Kakashi tilted his head. “But…” His voice held something new—a hint of curiosity.

“I think training with Aria might push you further than anything you’ve done before.”

Hinata’s breath hitched, her eyes snapping up to him.

“You… you really think so?” she asked softly.

Kakashi’s eye crinkled slightly, though whether it was amusement or something else, she couldn’t tell.

“Guess we’ll find out soon enough,” he said simply, turning away.

Hinata remained still for a moment, his words lingering in her mind. Then, with renewed determination, she stood up straight.

She would prove him right.

She had to.

Sakura had been training with Kurenai-sensei for the past hour, and to her own surprise, she was enjoying it.

Before, training had always felt like a chore—something she had to endure rather than something she wanted to do. But now that she had someone actually guiding her, teaching her properly, she felt something new.

For the first time, she felt like she could reach for the stars.

Kurenai had just made her break free from another Genjutsu when she noticed Hinata and Kakashi approaching.

Sakura blinked. They’re already done? She had expected their sparring session to take longer.

Seeing them, Kurenai decided to take a break and stepped away to talk with Kakashi.

Sakura, however, saw this as her chance.

She had been wanting to talk to Hinata—about her plan, about the danger she was putting herself in.

Honestly? Sakura was scared for her.

Hinata’s life had always been far more dangerous than her own, and yet, she was willing to face even greater challenges to achieve her goal. Sakura admired that.

She was inspired by Hinata’s determination and, more than anything… she wanted to help her.

Hinata feels like the first real friend I’ve had since Ino.

But at the same time, she didn’t want to push too hard. She didn’t want to make Hinata uncomfortable.

As they sat down for a quick breakfast, Sakura finally decided to ask her directly.

“Hey, Hinata…”

Hinata turned to her, her pale lavender eyes filled with curiosity.

Sakura hesitated for a moment before sighing and continuing.

“I heard your conversation with Kakashi and Kurenai-sensei.”

At that, Hinata’s eyes widened slightly, her expression turning uncertain.

Sakura gave her a gentle look. “I know it’s not my business, but… you’re my friend, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Her voice was firm, but caring as she met Hinata’s gaze.

“But if you ever need someone to rely on… I’ll be by your side.”

For a few moments, Hinata was silent.

Then, Sakura heard it—soft, quiet sobs.

She turned, alarmed, but instead of sadness, she saw happy tears streaming down Hinata’s face.

“Thank you, Sakura,” Hinata whispered, her voice trembling. “For caring about me… and for being my friend.”

Sakura’s heart clenched.

Hinata took a deep breath. “I do want to tell you about my plan… but I don’t want you to be in danger because of it.”

Sakura frowned. “But, Hinata, my life is already dangerous,” she protested. “I’m a kunoichi, just like you. How can I just stand by while my friend is in trouble?”

Her voice softened as she added, “Kakashi-sensei always says that those who abandon their friends are worse than scum.”

Hinata froze at those words.

Then, for a moment, she went completely silent—quieter than usual.

Sakura felt a pang of guilt. She hadn’t meant to upset her—but before she could apologize, Hinata spoke again.

“I’m planning to train with my exiled aunt,” she admitted, her tone heavy.

Sakura blinked. “Exiled?”

Hinata nodded, her fingers tightening around the fabric of her sleeve.

“She was cast out because she stood against one of my clan’s cruelest traditions—the Caged Bird Seal.”

Sakura tilted her head, confused. “Caged Bird Seal…?”

Hinata inhaled shakily. “The seal is placed on every Branch House member of the Hyūga Clan. It’s meant to destroy the Byakugan upon their death, but it also allows the Main Branch to inflict pain on them at will. It’s… a tool to control them.”

As Sakura processed the information, her expression darkened.

Her jaw tightened. Her hands curled into fists.

What kind of clan does this to their own family?!

Seeing Sakura’s growing anger, Hinata hesitated. For a moment, she thought about stopping there—but no.

Sakura deserves to know everything.

“I hate this tradition,” Hinata whispered, voice trembling. “And I plan to abolish it.”

She turned to Sakura, waiting—bracing herself for disgust, for hatred toward her clan, for anything.

But instead—

Sakura grabbed her and pulled her into a tight hug.

Hinata stiffened in shock.

Then—

“I’ll do everything in my power to help you,” Sakura murmured, her voice steady with conviction.

Hinata gasped, her eyes widening.

Sakura pulled back, giving her a bright, confident smile.

“That’s what friends are for, right?”

Hinata couldn’t stop the fresh wave of tears that fell.

“…Right.”

Chapter Text

Hinata felt infinitely better after talking to Sakura. She hadn’t realized that fully relying on someone could feel so freeing.

But now, as she stood before the Hyūga compound, a familiar sense of nervousness crept up her spine. She understood the dangers of meeting Aria, yet she had to try.

From the outside, the Hyūga estate looked like a place of beauty and elegance. But to Hinata, it was nothing more than a gilded cage. The towering walls, meant to protect, only served to suffocate. A heavy, oppressive aura clung to the air, making her want to turn and run before she even stepped inside.

This was the place where she had learned what it meant to be afraid.

Every step she took within these walls was filled with dread. Every glance from a Main Branch member was one of disdain, as if she were an abomination in their eyes. They saw her weakness, and they exploited it. They made her feel worthless at every opportunity.

As she walked through the compound, her eyes landed on the two people she wanted to protect the most—Neji and Hanabi.

Neji stood in the courtyard, training Hanabi, his movements precise and disciplined. Hanabi, still young but full of potential, followed his instructions with unwavering determination.

Despite everything—despite the way Neji resented her, despite the way he had once tried to hurt her—Hinata could not bring herself to hate him. And Hanabi, though still bound by their father’s expectations, was growing up under the same crushing weight of the clan’s traditions.

Hinata wished things were different between them. She wished she could stand beside Neji as an equal, not as the failure he despised. She wished Hanabi didn’t have to carry the burden of being the heir, didn’t have to suffer the same pain she had endured.

No, she wouldn’t just wish for it.

She would make sure of it.

As Hinata was about to leave, she felt a pair of cold lavender eyes on her.

Neji had seen her.

His gaze was sharp, filled with all the anger and resentment he had carried for years. But just as the weight of his glare settled on her, another, much softer gaze met hers.

Hanabi.

Unlike Neji, Hanabi’s face brightened when she saw her. Despite their father’s actions creating distance between them, she and Hanabi shared an unbreakable bond.

“Onee-san! How are you?” Hanabi exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine happiness.

Hinata’s lips parted, ready to respond, but Neji scoffed, turning away as if her presence wasn’t even worth acknowledging. The sting of his cold indifference was something she had long grown used to, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

Before she could return Hanabi’s greeting, a familiar, imposing presence made her freeze in place.

Hiashi Hyūga.

The leader of the Hyūga clan, a man respected throughout Konoha—especially after the Uchiha massacre left their clan as the village’s strongest. He carried himself with the same pride and authority as always, but as his pale eyes landed on her, Hinata felt the all-too-familiar weight of his disapproval.

His gaze barely lingered on her before shifting toward Hanabi and Neji.

“Hanabi,” he said in his usual strict tone, “you have made progress, but it is still not enough to be the heiress of the Hyūga clan.”

If Hanabi was disappointed by his words, she didn’t show it.

Then, Hiashi turned to Neji. “Continue your training. You are the clan’s genius, after all.”

Neji met his uncle’s eyes with unwavering resolve and bowed, his fists clenched at his sides. “Of course, Uncle. I would never want to disappoint you.”

Hinata watched the exchange with quiet understanding. This was how things always were. Neji received recognition; Hanabi bore expectations. And she… she was nothing more than an afterthought.

Or so she thought.

“The guards informed me that you have been coming home late,” Hiashi said, turning his attention to her. “State your reason.”

Hinata’s breath hitched. He was acknowledging her? Asking about her?

Her initial instinct was fear, but something inside her refused to let her shrink away. She had spent years being afraid. But now… now she had a goal. And for the first time, she wasn’t ashamed to stand by it.

Lifting her head, she answered with steady confidence, “I have been training with my Jōnin-sensei and one of my old classmates to prepare for the Chūnin Exams.”

Not a single stutter.

Hiashi’s eyes flickered with mild surprise, but he quickly masked it. This change in his daughter’s demeanor was unexpected—but welcome. Perhaps, with time, she would become a proper Hyūga.

“Very well,” he said, his tone carrying the usual cold detachment. “You have permission to train. At the very least, it might make you less of a disappointment.”

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving the training grounds.

Hinata exhaled, exhaustion settling over her. She had expected nothing more from him. Even so, a small part of her ached at how easily he dismissed her.

She turned to leave, drained from the encounter, but before she could take a step, Neji suddenly blocked her path.

“You do know that no amount of training will help you, right?” His voice was sharp, unwavering. “So stop wasting everyone’s time.”

Hinata didn’t flinch.

She had heard these words before. This exchange had happened countless times. But this time… she was different.

Lifting her chin, she met Neji’s gaze head-on. “Neji, under no circumstances will I stop my training.”

His expression remained unreadable, but she didn’t stop.

“I have realized what my goal is,” she said firmly, her voice unwavering. “I know what I must do with my life.”

Her next words were quiet, but they carried an undeniable strength.

“Not even death can scare me away from it, Neji-nii-san.”

For the first time, she saw it—Neji’s composure faltering, if only for a second. His eyes widened just slightly, caught off guard by her resolve.

But Hinata was too tired to care.

She turned away, not bothering to wait for a response. Tomorrow, she would be doing something reckless—something truly foolish.

But she didn’t care.

She had a goal. And she would see it through.

The next morning, Sakura woke up with a lingering sense of unease.

After learning the truth about the Hyūga clan, she couldn’t shake the sick feeling in her stomach. The idea that so many people, including Hinata, lived in constant fear was unbearable. How could the village allow such a cruel tradition to continue?

But despite the anger and sadness swirling inside her, something else had become clearer than ever—her purpose as a shinobi.

She would dedicate herself to helping those in need, even if it meant risking her own life. That way, she would have no regrets about the path she had chosen.

And the first person she had decided to help was Hinata.

Right now, Hinata was preparing to meet with her exiled aunt, Aria Hyūga. And Sakura had no intention of letting her go alone. She knew it was reckless—two highly trained Jōnin would be accompanying her, and she was just a Genin. But that didn’t matter.

She wasn’t about to let her friend face this alone.

With that resolve, she marched toward the training grounds, where Hinata and Kurenai-sensei were already waiting for Kakashi. As expected, he was late.

Kurenai spotted her first, and her expression immediately darkened.

“Sakura,” she said, her voice sharp with barely concealed anger. “What are you doing here?”

Sakura met her gaze, refusing to back down. “Kurenai-sensei, I know why you told me not to come. Hinata and I talked about it yesterday.” She took a deep breath before continuing, steadying her voice. “I know this mission is dangerous. But I don’t want Hinata to go alone.”

Kurenai’s frown deepened, but before she could argue, Sakura pressed on.

“I could actually be useful as a cover. If anyone asks, we can say that Hinata and I were training together—or that she was at my house. That way, she has a more believable alibi.”

Kurenai raised an eyebrow, considering her words, but before she could respond, Hinata spoke up.

“But, Sakura… it’s too dangerous. What if something happens to you because of my decisions?” Hinata’s voice was laced with guilt. “I would never forgive myself.”

Sakura sighed before snapping, “I am a shinobi too, Hinata! My life is already dangerous, so why not let me help you?”

Her voice shook with emotion as she clenched her fists. “Even if I die because of my decisions, I still wouldn’t regret it! For gods' sake, let me do this!”

A quiet chuckle broke the tense silence.

“Alright then. You’re coming,” Kakashi’s lazy voice rang beside her.

Sakura jumped—she hadn’t even noticed him standing right next to her.

“Kakashi, are you insane?” Kurenai immediately turned on him, glaring.

“Yes, I’m a little crazy,” Kakashi admitted nonchalantly, scratching the back of his head. “But the girl wants to help her friend. How can I say no to that?”

“With your mouth,” Kurenai muttered sarcastically.

Kakashi chuckled, but his expression turned serious as he looked at Sakura. “Alright, you’re coming. But only this one time. I don’t want any of my students getting hurt.”

Sakura nodded, feeling her heartbeat quicken. She knew this was dangerous, and deep down, she was scared.

But at the same time, for the first time in her life… she felt like she truly mattered.

Like she was finally finding her own path.

As the group—Hinata, Sakura, Kurenai, and Kakashi—gathered near the outskirts of Konoha, the air was tense. The Hyūga clan was notorious for its watchful eyes, and if they were caught, there would be serious consequences.

Kakashi, ever the strategist, crossed his arms and spoke in a calm, measured voice.

"The Hyūga patrol their compound constantly, but their eyes can’t be everywhere at once. Even they have blind spots—especially when it comes to terrain they don’t consider a threat."

Hinata frowned slightly. "That seems… unlikely. Our Byakugan covers almost everything."

Kakashi nodded. "Almost. But even the best vision is limited by how much a person can focus on at once. Your clan prioritizes guarding the compound, not the land beyond it. They don’t waste their energy scanning empty areas unless there’s a reason to."

Kurenai folded her arms. "Which means we need to move through an area they ignore."

"Exactly," Kakashi confirmed. He pointed toward an old storage house near the village walls. "Years ago, when I was on missions near this area, I noticed that this section of the village has old drainage tunnels underneath it. Konoha was expanded multiple times, and when the terrain shifted, some of these tunnels were left behind. The Hyūga don’t bother monitoring them because they assume no one uses them anymore."

Sakura raised an eyebrow. "So you just… happened to notice this before?"

Kakashi shrugged. "I pay attention to my surroundings. It’s a useful habit."

Hinata activated her Byakugan and scanned the ground beneath them. "There is… something underground. A passageway. But it’s partially collapsed."

"Not completely, though," Kakashi said. "It’ll be tight, but we can squeeze through. The tunnel leads past the Hyūga patrol routes. Once we surface, we’ll stay above ground, using the trees for cover. The patrols don’t usually look straight up unless they’re suspicious."

Kurenai exhaled. "It’s risky, but it might work."

Kakashi smirked. "It will work. But we need to move now before the next patrol shift."

Kakashi pried open a loose wooden panel on the floor of the storage house, revealing a narrow opening leading into the earth. The smell of damp stone filled the air.

Hinata peered inside, her Byakugan glowing faintly. "The tunnel stretches forward about twenty meters, then drops lower. We’ll have to crawl through some parts."

Sakura grimaced. "Great. Just what I wanted—more dirt in my hair."

"Could be worse," Kakashi said lightly. "You could be out there dealing with an angry Hyūga patrol instead."

With no further hesitation, they descended into the tunnel. The air was thick with moisture, and the passage was just wide enough for them to move single file. Small roots jutted from the ceiling, and faint trickles of water dripped from above.

Hinata took the lead, using her Byakugan to check ahead.

"No signs of movement nearby," she reported.

"Good," Kurenai whispered. "Let’s keep it that way."

They moved quickly but carefully. Occasionally, Kakashi would point out unstable parts of the tunnel, guiding them along a safer path.

After nearly half an hour, they reached the exit—an overgrown section of the forest where thick tree roots had broken through the stone, creating an opening large enough for them to climb out.

Kakashi scanned the area above. "This is where we switch to tree travel. No touching the ground from here on out. Hyūga guards can detect unnatural disturbances in the terrain."

Sakura blinked. "Wait… how do you know that?"

Kakashi gave her a lazy look. "Because I’ve fought Hyūga before."

Hinata turned to him, surprised. "You have?"

Kakashi’s expression didn’t change. "A long time ago. It’s not important now. Just trust me—stay off the ground, and we’ll be fine."

Hinata hesitated, but in the end, she nodded.

With that, they ascended into the trees, moving swiftly toward Aria’s house.

By the time they reached their destination, the forest was dense, the moon barely visible through the thick branches. A lone wooden house stood among the trees, worn with age but still standing strong.

Just as they approached—

A kunai whizzed past them, embedding itself in a tree inches from Kakashi’s face.

A cold, sharp voice rang out from the shadows.

“State your business, or leave.”

Hinata’s breath caught. She knew that voice.

Aria Hyūga had already noticed them.

Chapter Text

Hinata had not seen Aria since she was a toddler, yet the mental image of her aunt remained vivid in her memory. Now, standing before her, she realized that Aria had not changed much.

Her long, dark hair, the color of moonlight on a cloudy night, cascaded down to her hips. Though her Byakugan was deactivated, her pale lavender eyes glowed with intensity. She wore a simple black yukata, yet despite its plainness, she carried herself with breathtaking elegance.

But then—Hinata’s breath hitched.

As the wind lifted Aria’s hair, it revealed something she hated to see.

A Caged Bird Seal burned against her forehead.

Hinata felt an uncomfortable tightening in her chest, a pang of guilt and sorrow at the sight of the very symbol that bound the Hyūga’s Branch Family in servitude.

Before they could introduce themselves, Aria spoke again, her voice carrying the sharpness of a blade.

"I know one of you is from the Hyūga clan." She let out a tired sigh, as if already regretting this encounter. "And Kakashi-san… you should know that I can recognize your chakra signature from a mile away."

Her eyes narrowed, flashing with dangerous intent. "What do you want from me? Speak quickly before I decide to kill all of you."

Sakura inhaled sharply, her face paling at the casual mention of murder.

Kakashi, unfazed as ever, leaped down from the tree branch he had been standing on and took a step forward. His tone remained light, but his eye held a seriousness beneath the usual ease.

"Don’t worry, Aria-chan, we’ll state our business soon," he said smoothly. "But shouldn’t you at least greet your niece first?"

Hinata , Sakura and Kurenai joined him, stepping forward cautiously.

At the sight of Hinata, Aria’s expression shifted. For a moment, she said nothing, her face twisting as conflicting emotions warred beneath the surface—disgust, anger… sadness.

And then, there was something else.

Something Hinata did not expect.

A flicker of longing.

As if, despite everything, despite the betrayal, despite the pain… some small part of Aria still missed being part of the Hyūga clan.

The silence stretched before Aria finally spoke again.

"You’re Hanako’s eldest daughter, aren’t you?"

Hinata swallowed and nodded, preparing to speak. But before she could, Aria scoffed, her voice turning cold.

"And what does the Hyūga princess want with the woman who betrayed her clan? Betrayed your grandfather? Your father?” Her lavender eyes burned with bitterness. “Shouldn’t you be looking down on me like the rest of them? Or do you no longer carry that mighty Hyūga ego? The one that loves to call itself the strongest in this damned village?"

Hinata stiffened. Fear clawed at her insides, but she gritted her teeth and forced herself to remain still.

She could not back down.

Not now.

Not when Neji, Hanabi, and the entire Branch Family were counting on her.

But before she could find her voice, Aria’s expression darkened further.

"Speak up," she snapped, her tone rising. "Or have you lost your voice along with your title?"

Her sudden outburst made Hinata flinch.

But before Hinata could respond—

Sakura stepped forward.

"Hey! You don’t get to yell at her like that!" Sakura snapped, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and determination. "She came all this way with something important to ask you, and you won’t even let her speak?!"

Aria’s head tilted slightly, a slow, amused smirk curling at the edges of her lips.

"And who is this little mouse that dares to disrespect me?" she asked mockingly.

Sakura straightened, balling her fists. "I’m Sa—"

"Aria-sama," Hinata cut in suddenly, stepping forward and bowing deeply, her voice steady despite the weight pressing on her chest.

Aria’s gaze snapped back to her.

Hinata took a slow, deep breath.

"I want to change my clan," she said firmly.

A sharp silence fell over the clearing.

"For that, I need your mentorship."

Aria’s eyes narrowed, but she did not interrupt.

Hinata continued, her voice unwavering. "I am considered a weak ninja. I no longer carry the title of heiress. But I will become strong—strong enough to help the Branch Family, strong enough to protect myself and my younger sister."

She clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms as she finally said the words that had been weighing on her for so long.

"And I will free my cousin."

The moment the words left her lips, she bowed low, pressing her forehead against the ground in a deep, respectful bow.

"Please consider teaching me, so that I can accomplish my goal."

The forest remained silent, the air thick with tension.

Aria simply stared at her, unreadable.

For a long, agonizing moment—she did not respond.

For a long moment, there was silence. Aria stood still, her pale lavender eyes locked onto Hinata’s. Then she laughed—a bitter, mocking sound.

“Change the Hyūga?” Aria repeated. “Do you even understand what you’re saying?”

Hinata flinched but held her ground. “I do,” she said quietly. “I know others have tried. I know you—”

“Enough.” Aria’s voice cut through the air. She stepped closer, the faint outline of the Caged Bird Seal visible on her temple. “I believed in change once. It got me exile, a lifetime of silence.”

Hinata swallowed. “Then why are you still here?”

Aria hesitated, her eyes briefly flickering with something like regret. Then she scoffed. “Spirit alone won’t change the Hyūga. Strength will.”

Hinata’s heart pounded. She knelt and bowed. “Then teach me. I’ll do whatever it takes to become strong enough to change things.”

Aria studied her for a long moment before exhaling sharply. “Fine. But know this—I am not your father or your sensei. I won’t coddle you.”

Hinata rose, determination in her eyes. “I don’t want kindness. I want to be strong.”

Aria smirked. “Then let’s see if you’re worth my time.”

The tension in the air was thick as they turned to begin their spar .

The tension between them was thick, Aria’s words hanging in the air like a storm waiting to break. Her sharp gaze never left Hinata, studying every word. The rustling leaves grew louder in the silence.

Hinata’s fists tightened, but she stayed quiet—this was a time for action, not words.

Aria wasn’t new to hard lessons, and Hinata knew she’d face tough challenges. To change the Hyūga, she’d have to endure whatever Aria threw at her. There was no turning back.

“I don’t care how you train me,” Hinata said firmly. “Will you teach me how to break the chains of this clan? How to show them there’s more to strength than we’ve been taught?”

Aria’s smirk faded just slightly. “Strength isn’t just power,” she muttered. “It’s understanding what’s beneath it. You’ll learn the hard way.”

Aria turned and motioned for Hinata to follow. “Come.”

Hinata nodded and followed, determined to change her clan.

“One more thing,” Aria said coldly. “If you ever think you’ve done enough, you’ll be left behind. Understand?”

Hinata nodded, her resolve stronger than ever.

Aria slowed for a moment, the faintest sigh escaping her lips. “Good,” she said, and they walked on into the night, their footsteps blending with the sound of the leaves.

Kurenai was puzzled by the whole situation—why was Kakashi so familiar with Aria? Why had Aria abandoned all her aspirations? But what shocked her the most was that Aria had agreed to train Hinata.

She was alarmed by the fact that Hinata was heading into the woods with her "sweet" aunt. As she moved to follow, Kakashi stopped her.

“Listen, Kurenai,” Kakashi said, sitting down with his book. “I know you’re worried about her, but there’s no need for it. They’ll be back soon.”

Before Kurenai could respond, Sakura spoke up. “Sensei, don’t be so brash with us. You know why we’re worried about her.” She looked down at her feet. “Besides, it seemed like you two knew each other.”

Kurenai was grateful that Sakura brought it up, as she was also curious.

Kakashi sighed. “I worked with her. Sometimes, we even trained together. She’s the Hyūga I used to spar with.”

Kurenai stepped closer. “She was a jonin too?” she whispered .

Kakashi nodded, which made Kurenai panic even more. But all they could do now was wait.

The forest was quiet, the only sounds the rustling of leaves and the distant calls of birds. Aria stood in front of Hinata, her arms crossed, watching her with calculating eyes.

Hinata’s heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of excitement and nerves swirling within her. This was her chance. She had to prove she was ready.

Aria broke the silence. “You want to change the Hyūga. You think you have what it takes?” Her voice was cold, almost detached.

Hinata nodded, determination in her eyes. “I won’t stop until I succeed. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Aria’s lips twitched into a small smirk, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “We’ll see about that. First, you need to learn the most basic thing: controlling your chakra.”

Hinata nodded again, trying to steady her breathing. She had learned control before, but something told her this would be different.

“Focus,” Aria instructed. “You don’t just use chakra. You feel it. It’s part of you, flowing through your body, guiding your movements.”

Aria stepped back, giving Hinata space. “I want you to strike the tree ahead of you. Show me your strength.”

Hinata’s brow furrowed. She had expected something more complex, but she trusted Aria’s judgment. With a deep breath, she focused, gathering chakra into her fist. She aimed at the trunk of the tree, then struck.

The sound of her fist hitting the bark echoed in the still air. The tree didn’t even shake.

Aria raised an eyebrow. “Not bad. But it’s not about power. It’s about precision.”

Hinata looked up, confused. “What do you mean?”

Aria gestured to the tree. “Power alone is nothing if you don’t control it. You need to focus chakra to the exact point you want to strike. Your chakra should land with intent, not force.”

Hinata took a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of thoughts in her mind. She tried again, this time focusing on the spot she wanted to hit, guiding the chakra with precision.

When she struck, the tree creaked under the force of her hit, but it didn’t break. Yet, she could feel the difference—the strike had purpose. It felt more controlled, more intentional.

Aria nodded. “Better. But you’re still holding back. Your chakra can be more than just a tool—it can be your weapon, your shield, and your way to shape reality.”

Hinata felt the weight of Aria’s words sink in. She wasn’t just learning to fight—she was learning to become the strength she sought. With each strike, she was learning to mold her chakra into something more, something that could change everything.

Aria stepped closer, her expression serious. “You’re not here for comfort, Hinata. If you want to change the Hyūga, you’ll need more than just strength. You’ll need resolve. Focus. Control.”

Hinata nodded, a fire igniting within her. “I understand.”

Aria’s eyes softened for the briefest moment. “Good. Now, let’s see if you can do this without holding back.”

Hinata took a deep breath and, for the first time, let herself release all the doubts, all the fears. She focused on the tree again, this time with all of her being. She struck with a steady hand, the chakra flowing through her body, guiding her.

The tree shook.

It wasn’t destroyed, but it was enough. Aria’s eyes narrowed in approval. “Better. That’s a start.”

Hinata felt a rush of pride, but she knew this was only the beginning. She had a long way to go.

Aria turned away, walking deeper into the forest. “Follow me. The next lesson is waiting.”

Hinata followed, feeling more ready than ever. This was the start of something that could change everything.

Chapter Text

Two hours later, Aria emerged from the forest, calm and composed, while Hinata followed closely behind—sweaty, covered in dirt, and with small cuts on her hands. Sakura felt a wave of relief wash over her, knowing her friend was safe. But what truly surprised her wasn’t Hinata’s exhausted state—it was the radiant smile on her face. It was strange to see her so free from her usual shyness. In just two hours, Aria had given Hinata a sense of freedom she had never felt before.

Hinata ran up to them, her eyes shining with hope. “Thank you, Kurenai-sensei and Kakashi-sensei,” she said, bowing deeply. “And thank you, Sakura, for following me here and giving me the courage.”

Sakura was touched that Hinata saw her in such a positive light. But at the same time, she couldn’t help feeling a bit jealous. Hinata had found someone who pushed her forward, someone who made her more determined. Though Sakura was grateful for everything her senseis had done for her, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being left behind. Still, she wasn’t going to complain or compete with Hinata—after all, she had her own path to follow, and she wasn’t sure she wanted the same one as her friend.

The atmosphere had lightened somewhat, though Kurenai-sensei was still shooting daggers at Aria, clearly displeased with how she had handled Hinata. As they prepared to leave, Aria turned to Hinata with a serious glint in her eyes.

“Remember what I told you during training.”

Hinata nodded vigorously, understanding the importance of her words. “I’ll be waiting for you here in two days so we can continue our training.”

Sakura assumed that was the end of the conversation and turned to leave—until Aria’s voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Wow, you’re really disrespectful to your elders, little pinkette.”

Sakura hadn’t expected Aria to even acknowledge her, let alone speak to her directly. After all, she had played no real role in today’s events. Aria approached her, standing tall and confident, her presence as striking as the moon in its full glory.

“I never got to hear your name,” Aria said.

“It’s Sakura. Sakura Haruno, Aria-san,” she replied, staring at her feet, a slight tremble in her voice. Aria must have noticed, but she chose not to comment on it.

“Well, it was quite impressive, the way you stood up for Hinata. That’s an admirable trait in a friend.”

Sakura blinked in surprise. She hadn’t expected praise.

“I assume you know what Hinata’s goal is?” Aria asked.

Sakura nodded.

Aria sighed before continuing. “She’s going to need a lot of help to achieve it. And she told me you also want to become a powerful kunoichi. If you’re truly serious about that goal, I’ll train you too.”

Sakura’s eyes widened in shock. She hadn’t expected such an offer.

“But… I don’t come from a clan, and I don’t think I have enough talent,” she stammered. “Besides, it’s not like I’ll ever be a great ninja. I just want to help my friends.”

“Sakura!” Hinata ran up to her, looking at her with pure admiration. “You’re really talented, Sakura-san, and I want us to train together and support each other in every way we can. So please don’t say no! After all, it was you who told me I could achieve my dream.”

Sakura hadn’t realized how much Hinata valued her until that moment. They hadn’t spent much time together, and she hadn’t thought she’d helped her that much. But Hinata’s words made her understand what true friendship was—and she liked the feeling.

After a few seconds of silence, Sakura turned to Aria with newfound determination.

“If this will make me stronger, then I have no reason to refuse,” she said, flashing a confident grin.

Around 22:00, they reached the center of the village.

Fortunately, no one noticed their secret visit to the exiled Hyūga.

As Hinata and Sakura left, Kurenai was left alone with Kakashi — and she had a few things to discuss regarding the stunts he pulled during their visit.

As they walked toward her apartment, Kakashi broke the silence.

"Do you want to interrogate me now?" he asked, as if he didn’t already know the answer.

When they reached her apartment, they were greeted by a familiar figure leaning against the wall — Asuma Sarutobi, Kurenai's supposedly secret boyfriend, though everyone in Konoha knew about them. They just chose not to talk about it.

Kakashi greeted him first. "Yo, Asuma. How was your mission?"

"It was fine," Asuma replied, cigarette between his lips.

But Asuma wasn’t an idiot. He knew this wasn’t about any mission. He also knew that whatever Kakashi and Kurenai were up to at this hour... it was something far darker. Perks of being the Hokage’s son.

Kakashi tried to use this moment to slip away and avoid Kurenai's interrogation altogether.

But she knew him too well.

She grabbed his arm and dragged him inside her apartment, telling Asuma to follow. If she was going to play with the most dangerous clan in Konoha, she would need help — and who better than her boyfriend?

Kakashi was forced onto the couch while Kurenai sat in front of him. Asuma took his place beside her, observing the situation with curiosity.

“So,” Asuma began, “what the hell is going on?”

Kurenai didn’t hesitate and told Asuma everything that happened .With each word his face become unreadable .after she was done , she turned her gaze to Kakashi, her eyes burning with frustration.

“I want the truth. Everything you know about Aria Hyūga. No more secrets.”

Kakashi let out a heavy sigh, flipping open his book as if to avoid the conversation.

“Are you done yet?”

Kurenai's patience snapped.

“I’m not playing, Kakashi.”

Kakashi closed his book and leaned back on the couch, staring at the ceiling as if the memories physically weighed on him.

“I’ll tell you everything. About her... and about what really happened in the Hyūga clan. Even the things that not even ANBU records hold.”

Asuma raised an eyebrow. “Wait... ANBU? You are saying  that ANBU dose not have this records?”

Kakashi’s voice lowered.

“She was one of us.”

Kurenai’s eyes widened in shock.

“She... was in ANBU?”

Kakashi nodded.

"Aria Hyūga wasn’t just some rebellious Main Branch member. She was one of the most skilled sensory ninjas ANBU ever had.

A team captain. And...  sometimes my partner.”

There was a long silence before he continued.

“Since the day I met her, she hated the twisted traditions of her clan. But she stayed quiet... for the sake of Hizashi and Hiashi.

She loved them both like brothers.

And when Neji’s mother died, she stepped in.

She helped raise Neji, trained him in secret, and cared for him as if he were her own.

To Neji... she wasn’t just his aunt.

She was the only person who truly believed in him."

Kurenai’s heart clenched.

"She raised him?"

"She did," Kakashi replied quietly. "Because after Neji’s mother passed away... Hizashi wasn’t the same anymore. And Hiashi... he was too bound by duty to protect Neji from the weight of the seal.

So Aria did it instead.

She was more of a mother to him than the Main Branch ever allowed her to be.”

Kurenai felt her throat tighten as Kakashi’s words sank in.

But Kakashi's voice darkened as he spoke again.

“But when Hizashi sacrificed himself to protect Hiashi and the Main Branch... Aria lost everything.

She lost her brother.

She lost Neji.

And she lost Hiashi... who gave up on changing the clan after that day.”

The room fell into silence, heavy with the weight of what Kakashi had just revealed.

“They had a plan,” he continued. “Aria, Hizashi, Hiashi, and Hanako.

The four of them were going to end the Caged Bird Seal and unite the Hyūga clan from within.

They were waiting for the former clan head to die before making their move.

But when Hizashi died... everything fell apart.”

Kurenai’s breath trembled. “And that’s when she turned against the clan…”

“No,” Kakashi replied bitterly. “That’s when the clan turned against her.”

“The Hyūga elders saw her rage.

They saw how the Branch Family quietly started to follow her.

They feared she would lead a rebellion.

So they demanded her execution.”

Kurenai’s eyes widened in shock.

“What?”

Kakashi’s voice lowered.

“I was the one sent to kill her.”

Asuma nearly dropped his cigarette.

“You... were ordered to kill her?”

Kakashi nodded.

“I held the kunai against her throat...

But before I could do it... Hanako arrived.”

“Hanako...?” Kurenai whispered.

“She begged the Hokage to spare her sister’s life.

She was willing to risk her position as the Hyūga matriarch to protect Aria.”

Kakashi’s voice cracked slightly.

“In the end...

The Hokage compromised.

Instead of execution...

Aria was branded with the Caged Bird Seal... and exiled.”

Kurenai felt her heart shatter.

“But that wasn’t the worst part,” Kakashi added darkly.

“Years later... when Hanako was dying...

Aria returned to the village, begging to see her sister one last time.

The elders refused.

And when she wouldn’t leave...

They activated her seal and dragged her unconscious body out of the compound.

She woke up... after Hanako’s funeral.”

Kurenai’s eyes burned with unshed tears.

“That was the moment Aria Hyūga gave up on her clan.”

There was a heavy silence.

Kakashi’s voice softened.

“And now... she’s training Hinata.

Not to protect her...

But to turn her into the weapon that will destroy the Hyūga clan.”

Kurenai clenched her fists.

“I won’t let that happen.”

Kakashi looked at her, his expression unreadable.

“She’s too far gone, Kurenai. I couldn’t save her back then... and I doubt anyone can now.”

Kurenai shook her head.

“I’m not trying to save Aria.

I’m trying to save Hinata...

Before she becomes her.”

Chapter Text

Aria sat near the small window of her secluded home on the outskirts of the village, bathed in the silver glow of the moon. She had lived here for the past  years, confined to a life of solitude. She despised this place—the way it caged her, the way it kept her from visiting the graves of those she had loved. And yet, despite the hatred, she was bound to it. This home had become her sanctuary, the only place where she could be her true self, unshackled from the weight of Hyūga traditions.

Her gaze lingered on the moon, its pale glow stirring long-buried memories. She thought of her family, her friends—the life she had lost. Those days, filled with warmth and laughter, felt like a distant dream. A part of her still ached for them, still longed for the closeness she had once known.

And today… today had been strange.

Hinata.

She had not seen her in years, yet the moment their eyes met, the past came rushing back. Aria had been there the day she was born, standing beside Hanako as she brought her into the world. After Hanako , she had been the first to hold her—tiny, fragile, full of promise. When Hanako needed help, Aria had always been there. She had watched over Hinata, cared for her, loved her in ways she had never spoken aloud.

She could still hear Hanako’s lullabies, the soft, soothing melodies that had comforted not just Hinata, but her as well.

And now, that delicate child had grown into a young woman—a kunoichi who stood before her and spoke of change. She wanted to abolish the Caged Bird Seal.

At first, Aria had wanted nothing to do with it. It was pointless. The Hyūga would rather die out than abandon their suffocating traditions. She had fought that battle once before and lost everything. Why should she believe it would be any different now?

But as she stared at Hinata, she felt something she had long thought dead—hope.

This was what they had dreamed of all those years ago, long before Hinata was even conceived. They had planned for a future where the Hyūga could exist without division, where trust could replace fear. But that future had never come.

She had been born to be the turning point in the Hyūga’s history—to lead them into an era of unity. But that future had died with Hanako. Or so she had believed.

Yet the yearning to change her clan had never truly left her. And when she saw Hinata, that longing surged through her like a tidal wave.

She thought of Neji, the little boy she had helped raise after his mother’s death. She missed him. She missed Hinata—the gentle little princess with the most beautiful, kindhearted face she had ever seen. And Hanabi… she had never met her, but she had often imagined what kind of person she had become. A good child, Aria hoped—unless the clan had already ruined her.

And now, after all these years, she had been given another chance.

She would have allowed herself more time to reminisce, but her thoughts were interrupted.

Someone was approaching her home. Again.

She heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching her home. Her body tensed, but she already knew who it was. The familiar rhythm of his steps was one she could never forget. Hiashi Hyūga.

When the door creaked open, her eyes narrowed as she saw the man who had once been her brother-in-law.

For a moment, silence hung between them, heavy with years of bitterness and unspoken words. Aria’s heart ached at the sight of him, but her expression remained cold.

"What do you want, Hiashi?" her voice was sharp, filled with restrained anger.

Hiashi stepped forward, his gaze steady but burdened with regret. "I came because of Hinata."

Aria’s eyes softened slightly at the mention of her niece. "I already know why she came to me. And I’ve already accepted her as my pupil."

Hiashi’s eyes widened in surprise. "You… agreed?"

"I held her before you ever did, Hiashi. When Hanako brought her into this world, I swore I would protect her. I failed her once by not being there when she needed me the most. I won’t make that mistake again."

Aria’s voice trembled as old wounds reopened. "I will train her. Not for you. Not for this cursed clan. But for Hanako, for Neji… and for Hizashi."

Hiashi’s expression darkened at the mention of his late brother. The man who had sacrificed himself for the clan, whose death haunted both of them.

"I ask for nothing more," Hiashi said quietly.

As he turned to leave, Aria’s voice softened. "Hiashi… Hanabi. What kind of person has she become?"

Hiashi paused and glanced back. "She is strong. Stubborn. Just like her mother. Just like you."

The door closed behind him, leaving Aria alone with her thoughts. But this time, she did not feel as trapped. For the first time in years, the spark of hope flickered within her.

She would not let Hinata bear this burden alone.

 Kurenai was furious. Fear for Hinata’s safety consumed her. She never should have allowed her to visit Aria. The risks were too high, and now, the situation had spiraled out of control.

Without hesitation, she ran back into the forest, with Kakashi and Asuma chasing after her.

"Kurenai," Kakashi called out in a serious tone, "you’re going to raise suspicion if you go back there now."

She knew he was right, but she couldn’t let this go. Not when Hinata and even Sakura had been dragged into this mess. She had to confront Aria. If she didn’t, she would regret it forever.

They approached Aria’s home once again. Kurenai stopped on top of a tree, carefully observing the surroundings. Just as she was about to make her move, the door to Aria’s home opened, and Hiashi stepped out.

Kurenai’s heart skipped a beat. They had been found out.

Kakashi and Asuma stood behind her, tense and ready for action.

"I know you are there," Hiashi’s voice echoed through the forest. "Come out so we can talk."

The three Jōnin leaped down and landed in front of him. Hiashi stood tall, his Byakugan activated, his usual cold expression unwavering.

Kurenai felt fear creep up her spine. She had broken Konoha’s rules by allowing Hinata to visit Aria. This could cost her everything. But it was too late to back out now.

Hiashi’s gaze pierced through them. "I’ve spoken with Aria. I know she has agreed to train Hinata. And I allow it. But under one condition—no one in this village must know. Including Hinata."

Before they could respond, Hiashi disappeared into the shadows.

Kurenai stared after him, shock evident on her face. She glanced at her comrades, who looked just as bewildered.

Before she could process what had just happened, Aria emerged from her home. Even in her nightgown, a flowing black robe that reached her ankles, she carried herself with elegance, like a goddess from an ancient tale.

"I know why you’re here," Aria said calmly, her eyes cold. "I don’t intend to turn Hinata into a miniature version of myself. I don’t want her to become as miserable as I am. So, there’s no need to worry."

She glanced at the sky and took a deep breath. "You should return to the village. Be cautious. The Hyūga patrol intensifies at this hour."

With that, she turned and walked back into her home, closing the door behind her.

There was a heavy silence between the three Jōnin.

"That was weird as hell," Kakashi muttered, finally relaxing. Asuma pulled out a cigarette and lit it up.

"For a second there, I thought we were dead men," Asuma said with a sigh of relief.

"At least you don’t have to worry about her corrupting Hinata," Kakashi added with his usual amused tone as he pulled out his perverted book.

In that moment, Kurenai wanted nothing more than to rip that damned book to shreds.

The next morning, Sakura felt like a completely different person. She had never expected to catch Aria’s attention, let alone be offered training under her. She didn’t know much about the woman yet, but there was no doubt in her mind—Aria was a powerful kunoichi, one who could teach her a lot.

Yesterday, Kurenai-sensei had given them a day off to recover after everything that had happened. For that, Sakura was grateful. She understood that rest was necessary, but part of her was itching to begin her training. Still, if Kurenai believed they needed the break, she would respect it. Today, she only had Team 7’s scheduled training, so she took her time getting ready.

After taking a warm shower, she got dressed and began brushing her long pink hair—only to pause mid-stroke. For the first time, she truly considered how impractical long hair was for a ninja, especially for a Genin just starting her career.

At that moment, she found herself at a crossroads.

For so long, she had kept her hair long because of Sasuke. It had been a symbol of her feelings for him, a quiet hope that he might one day see her the way she saw him. But she was beginning to understand that he never would. And, perhaps for the first time, she was okay with that. Sasuke was still her teammate, and maybe—just maybe—they could even become friends.

But now, she had a new goal. She wanted to focus on herself, on her own growth. And if there was someone she wanted to impress, it wasn’t Sasuke—it was Aria.

Without hesitation, Sakura picked up her kunai and, in one swift motion, sliced through her hair, cutting it just above her shoulders.

As strands of pink fluttered to the floor, she took a deep breath. She had always loved her long hair, but as she looked at her reflection, she had to admit—short hair suited her, too.

When she stepped out of her room, her parents immediately noticed the change. Her father chuckled, ruffling her freshly cut hair. “My little girl is growing up,” he said, his voice filled with warmth. It was a bit embarrassing, but she knew he meant well.

With a bright smile, she bid them farewell and headed toward the training grounds, a newfound sense of determination burning in her chest.

Today marked the beginning of something new.

Hinata couldn’t sleep. All night, her mind replayed everything she and Aria had talked about during training.

Aria had been right—about everything.

Hinata knew she needed a plan. She had to figure out which clan members she could trust and, more importantly, how to destroy the Caged Bird Seal. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that the Byakugan’s protection was crucial—not just for the Hyūga clan, but for Konoha’s security as well.

She tossed and turned for hours, remembering the night she was kidnapped for her Byakugan. That incident had cost her uncle his life. If the Byakugan fell into the wrong hands, it could be devastating.

And so, she made up her mind.

She wouldn’t just destroy the Caged Bird Seal—she would replace it. A new seal, one without the pain and control, one that would protect the Byakugan while granting freedom to all Hyūga. And this time, even the clan head would bear its mark.

For that, she needed to learn sealing jutsu.

When morning came, she got up and prepared for Team 8’s training at a slower pace than usual. Kurenai-sensei had given them a day off to rest, but Hinata had no intention of wasting time. She left early, knowing her sensei would disapprove, but she needed to practice what Aria had taught her.

As she walked toward the training ground, a familiar voice caught her attention.

Naruto.

He was walking with Shikamaru, loudly talking about something, his voice as energetic as ever. The moment she saw him, her face heated up, and panic set in. Her first instinct was to turn around and flee.

But then—she stopped.

How could she hope to change her clan if she couldn’t even face her own emotions? It was embarrassing. She had spent so much time running from her feelings, but now, she couldn’t afford to be distracted. She had a goal, and while Naruto would always be dear to her, she had more important things to focus on.

So instead of running, she kept walking.

As she approached, she saw their faces light up with recognition. Naruto, being himself, ran up to her immediately, while Shikamaru followed behind, looking as if he already regretted getting involved.

“How are you, Hinata? Are you still sick?” Naruto asked, concern evident in his voice.

She blinked. After all this time, he still thought she had been sick—never realizing she had simply been too shy to speak to him.

But Hinata understood the kind of childhood Naruto had. He had grown up without warmth, without guidance, so she could never be upset with him for misunderstanding her.

Even so, she had decided to stop letting her emotions hold her back.

Instead of stumbling over her words or running away, she lifted her head and met Naruto’s gaze with quiet confidence.

“Yes, I’m no longer sick, Naruto-san,” she said, her voice steady.

Naruto’s face lit up. “Oh, good! I was worried about that. I’m happy you’re feeling better, Hinata!”

He grinned at her for a few seconds before suddenly panicking.

“Ahhh! I’m gonna be late! Sakura-chan is gonna kill me—see you guys around!”

With that, he bolted off toward the training ground, leaving a trail of dust behind him.

Shikamaru watched Naruto disappear into the distance before turning back to Hinata with a curious look. He studied her for a moment, as if noticing something different about her, before giving a simple nod.

“Well… that was interesting,” he muttered before yawning. “Anyway, see you around, Hinata.”

And with that, he left, leaving her standing there alone.

But for once, she didn’t feel flustered or anxious.

She had faced Naruto and spoken without fear. It was a small step—but a step forward nonetheless.

And with renewed determination, she continued on her way to the training ground.

Chapter Text

Sakura saw Naruto approaching the training ground, his usual energy radiating from every step. Behind him, Sasuke followed at a steady pace, his expression locked in its usual annoyance.

Before she could greet them, Naruto ran up to her, eyes widening as he took in her new look.

“Sakura-chan! Did you cut your hair? It looks really good on you!” he exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.

Sakura smiled at his enthusiasm. “Thank you, Naruto. That’s sweet of you.”

At her words, Naruto’s face turned bright red. She had always known that he liked her, but she simply didn’t feel the same way.

“Tch. Doesn’t matter,” Sasuke muttered with a sigh. “She’ll still be annoying.”

“Don’t be a jerk, Sasuke!” Naruto yelled at him, glaring. Sasuke’s irritation grew, but before he could say anything, Naruto cut him off again.

“By the way, why did you cut it off?” he asked curiously.

Sakura took a few seconds to think before answering.

“These past few days… I’ve realized what my goal in life is,” she said, her voice steady. She turned to them with a soft but determined smile. “I want to become a strong kunoichi—to help the people around me.”

She exhaled heavily before continuing, “My hair was getting in the way while I was training, so I got rid of it.” She shrugged. “Besides, hair grows back. Maybe when I’m older, it’ll be easier to manage.”

As she spoke, Kakashi-sensei arrived at the training ground.

Naruto, satisfied with her answer, immediately ran off to him, eager to ask about their training for the day.

As Sakura began walking toward them, Sasuke unexpectedly moved closer to her. He gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher before muttering under his breath, “It was a smart decision.”

Then, without another word, he walked away.

A few days ago, just hearing Sasuke acknowledge her would have been enough to make her heart swell with joy. But now, she didn’t let herself falter under his gaze.

She wasn’t chasing after him anymore.

She was moving forward.

“Alright,” Kakashi said once they had all gathered. “Since we’re focusing on sharpening your skills, Sakura, today we’re doing taijutsu.”

Sakura blinked. “Taijutsu?”

Kakashi nodded. “You’ve got decent form, but you lack power. If you want to hold your own in battle, you need to improve your close-range combat. Right now, you rely too much on dodging. That’s fine for avoiding damage, but what happens when you need to strike back?”

Sakura pursed her lips. He had a point. She wasn’t physically strong like Naruto, nor did she have the raw talent Sasuke did. But she wasn’t weak. She just needed a way to fight smarter.

Right now Sasuke was training his sharingan , while Naruto was doing chakra control exercise .

“Come at me,” Kakashi said simply.

Sakura tensed. “What—?”

“You heard me,” Kakashi said. “Show me how you fight up close.”

Sakura inhaled sharply and got into a fighting stance.

This wasn’t like the Academy spars. This was Kakashi-sensei—one of Konoha’s strongest shinobi. If she wasn’t serious, she’d lose before she even threw a punch.

Without hesitating, she lunged forward.

Her first strike was aimed at his ribs, but Kakashi sidestepped with ease. She twisted her body, adjusting her footing, and followed up with a sharp kick to his side.

Again, he dodged effortlessly.

Too slow!

She gritted her teeth and pivoted, using the momentum to send a feint punch before sweeping her leg low in an attempt to knock him off balance.

But Kakashi simply leaped over it.

Sakura barely had time to react before he flickered behind her.

“Predictable,” he murmured before lightly tapping her shoulder.

The next thing she knew, she was on the ground.

Sakura gasped, staring up at the sky as dust settled around her. She had been thrown effortlessly.

Kakashi loomed over her, his eye half-lidded in that familiar, lazy way.

“That was better than I expected,” he admitted. “But you’re still not using your full potential.”

Sakura groaned and pushed herself up, her arms trembling slightly.

“Again,” she said, determined.

Kakashi tilted his head. “Oh? Not giving up?”

“I won’t get better if I stop now,” she shot back.

Kakashi’s eye curved slightly. “Good answer.”

And so, she tried again. And again.

For the next hour, Sakura threw herself at Kakashi, testing her endurance, speed, and reflexes. He never struck back hard—only enough to show her where her weaknesses were.

Slowly, she began to see the gaps in her fighting style. She relied too much on reacting instead of taking control. Her movements were efficient but lacked real force.

But most importantly—

She could learn.

With every failed strike, she adapted. She started reading his movements better, forcing him to dodge more deliberately. And even though she still couldn’t land a proper hit, she was improving.

When Kakashi finally called for a break, Sakura collapsed onto the grass, panting.

“Not bad,” he said, standing over her. “You’ve got good instincts. But you need power.”

Sakura wiped sweat from her forehead. “How do I fix that?”

Kakashi crouched beside her. “Your chakra control is already exceptional, which means you’re a perfect candidate for chakra-enhanced strength.”

Sakura blinked. “Chakra-enhanced strength?”

Kakashi nodded. “You’ll need to train your body to handle it first, but if you learn to channel chakra into your strikes properly, you’ll be able to hit harder than anyone expects.”

Sakura’s heart pounded. This—this was what she needed.

A real way to fight back.

“Then I want to learn,” she said, her voice steady.

Kakashi smirked. “I figured you’d say that. We’ll start tomorrow.”

Sakura let out a breathless laugh. She was exhausted, sore, and bruised—but she felt alive.

For the first time, she truly believed she could be strong.

Hinata stood across from Kiba, her stance firm.

Their training was different today—harsher, more intense.

Kurenai had decided that they would spar as if it were a real battle, testing their ability to adapt under pressure.

Hinata’s breath was steady as she activated her Byakugan.

Kiba lunged first, moving with the speed of a trained tracker. Akamaru barked as he rushed beside him, ready to attack.

Hinata didn’t hesitate.

She sidestepped Kiba’s punch, her palm glowing faintly with chakra as she countered. Kiba barely managed to dodge before she struck again, forcing him to retreat.

Shino observed the fight from the sidelines, his expression unreadable behind his glasses.

“Hinata’s movements are sharper than before,” he remarked. “She’s reacting faster, and her footwork has improved.”

Kurenai nodded, watching closely. “She’s been pushing herself more lately. But she still hesitates at the last second.”

Shino adjusted his collar. “It’s because she overthinks. She waits for the perfect moment instead of simply committing to her attacks.” His gaze shifted to Kiba. “On the other hand, Kiba is the opposite—he acts without considering all his options. He assumes overwhelming force will always work in his favor.”

As if to prove Shino’s point, Kiba growled in frustration.

“Damn it, Hinata, what’s gotten into you? You’re faster than before!”

Hinata didn’t respond. She was too focused, her Byakugan tracking his every movement.

Kiba rushed forward again, this time feinting left before spinning into a powerful kick. Hinata, however, saw through it. She ducked low and struck out with precision, hitting a key chakra point in his arm.

Kiba yelped and stumbled back, clutching his shoulder.

Shino exhaled softly. “If Hinata stops hesitating, she’ll surpass him soon.”

Kurenai glanced at him. “And what about you?”

Shino was silent for a moment before speaking. “I do not rely on brute force like Kiba or close combat like Hinata. My approach is different. But if Hinata keeps improving, she will be a formidable ally—and opponent.”

Kurenai smiled slightly. “Good observation.”

Meanwhile, Kiba groaned, shaking out his arm. “Alright, alright, I get it—you’ve been training harder than usual.”

Hinata hesitated, then lowered her hands. “I… I have to be stronger.”

Kiba smirked. “Well, you’re getting there. That hit hurt.”

As they gathered their things, Shino adjusted his glasses once more.

“Hinata,” he said, “if you want to overcome your hesitation, you need to spar against someone who won’t hold back.”

Hinata’s breath hitched.

A real fight. No holding back.

She knew exactly who she needed to ask. But she had to figure out one thing before that.

After her training session, Sakura made her way to the park, where she and Hinata had agreed to meet. From there, they would head to the training ground to prepare for their next session with Aria.

She arrived early and took a seat on one of the benches, enjoying the quiet moment. But her peace was soon interrupted.

“Looks like you’ve decided to make yourself even uglier, Forehead,” a familiar voice sneered.

Sakura looked up to see Ino Yamanaka standing before her, arms crossed, her usual confident smirk in place.

“Well, I guess I don’t have to worry about Sasuke liking you now,” Ino added, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Sakura sighed but didn’t feel the usual urge to snap back.

Ino…

She had been Sakura’s first real friend—the one who had saved her from bullies, who had given her confidence when she had none. But everything had changed when they both developed feelings for Sasuke. Their friendship had soured, turning into a rivalry that only grew with time.

But now… things were different.

Since she became close with Hinata, Sakura realized how much she missed having a genuine friend. And even though she and Ino weren’t on the best terms, Sakura wasn’t willing to let that bond completely disappear.

So instead of calling her “Ino-pig,” like she had for years, Sakura simply looked at her and said—

“You, on the other hand, look really beautiful, Ino.”

Her voice was sincere, her smile warm.

Ino’s confident smirk faltered.

“What?” Ino blinked, completely caught off guard. She glanced around, expecting to see Sasuke nearby. Surely, this was some kind of trick, right? But there was no one else around. Just the two of them.

A flicker of concern crossed Ino’s face.

“…Are you okay, Sakura?” she asked cautiously.

At that, Sakura burst into laughter.

“Wait, are you actually worried about me just because I didn’t insult you?” she teased. “Jeez, our rivalry over Sasuke really made us both oblivious.”

Ino scowled, snapping back into her usual attitude. “What are you talking about? You’re no match for me! Sasuke will definitely choose me over you.”

Sakura just smiled, shaking her head.

She didn’t feel the need to argue anymore. There was nothing to prove.

“I know we haven’t had the best relationship these past few years because of Sasuke,” she admitted, her tone softening. She hesitated for a moment, still surprised by her own determination.

“But I’ve realized… there are more important things in life than a boy.”

She looked at Ino directly, voice steady.

“So what do you say? Would you like to be friends again?”

Ino froze.

She hadn’t expected that.

For years, they had been rivals. This wasn’t how their conversations usually went.

She wanted to scoff, to brush it off like it was nothing, but before she could stop herself, the words slipped out—

“As if I would want to do that.”

The moment she said it, she regretted it.

Sakura’s smile faltered, just slightly. But she still looked at Ino with understanding.

“Well,” she said gently, “I hope one day you’ll change your mind.”

Before Ino could think of a response, a soft yet firm voice interrupted them.

“Sakura-san.”

They both turned to see Hinata Hyūga standing nearby.

Sakura instantly brightened and jumped up from the bench. “Hinata! You’re here!”

Ino stared.

She wasn’t sure what surprised her more—the fact that Sakura had greeted someone like that or the fact that Hinata looked completely different.

She wasn’t stuttering. She wasn’t nervously playing with her fingers.

She stood tall, composed.

Something had changed.

As much as Ino had known about Hinata, she had never really paid much attention to her. She was just the quiet girl in their class, the one who was too timid to even say a full sentence around Naruto.

Yet, the Hinata standing in front of her now… wasn’t timid at all.

Ino must have been staring too long because Hinata turned to her with a small, polite smile.

“Ino-san, do you know where Shikamaru-san is? I need to discuss something important with him.”

Ino stared.

Not only had Hinata spoken in a clear, confident voice, but she had done so without a single ounce of hesitation.

For a second, Ino wondered if she was talking to an imposter. But… no. It was definitely Hinata.

She shook off her shock and responded, “Uh… yeah. He’s with Asuma-sensei, playing shogi.”

Hinata nodded. “Thank you, Ino-san.”

And with that, she turned and walked off toward the training grounds.

Sakura followed after her but turned back one last time.

“See you around, Ino,” she said, her voice tinged with something almost wistful.

Ino stood there, watching them leave.

She wasn’t sure how to feel.

Sakura’s sad smile, Hinata’s confidence… it all left a strange feeling in her chest.

And as she walked home, she couldn’t get Sakura’s words out of her head.

“Would you like to be friends again?”

For the first time in years, Ino didn’t know what to say.

Chapter Text

Hinata and Sakura walked through the village, their steps steady with purpose. The Nara compound was their destination, but before meeting Shikaku, they needed to speak with Shikamaru.

It didn’t take long to find him—just as expected, he was sitting with Asuma-sensei, a shogi board placed between them.

Shikamaru’s brow was slightly furrowed in thought as he studied the board, while Asuma took a relaxed drag of his cigarette, watching his student with a knowing smirk.

Sakura crossed her arms. “Wow, Shikamaru. You actually look focused for once.”

Shikamaru sighed, barely glancing up. “Troublesome. What do you two want?”

Hinata stepped forward. “Shikamaru-san… we need to speak with your father. But we thought it would be best to go through you first.”

That caught Asuma’s attention. He exhaled a slow stream of smoke and leaned back slightly. “Huh. That’s rare. Not many people ask to talk to Shikaku directly.”

Shikamaru finally looked up from the board, giving Hinata a lazy but mildly curious glance. “What could you possibly need my dad for?”

Hinata hesitated for only a second before answering, her voice calm but firm. “I need his advice on something important.”

Shikamaru studied her for a long moment. His sharp mind was already piecing things together—Hinata wasn’t the type to ask for help lightly. If she was going to Shikaku, it had to be serious.

He exhaled through his nose, clearly weighing his options.

Asuma smirked at his hesitation. “Well, go on, Shikamaru. They came all this way.”

“Tch. What a drag,” Shikamaru muttered, moving one of his pieces on the board before standing up. “Fine. But don’t blame me if he turns you down.”

Hinata bowed slightly. “Thank you, Shikamaru-san.”

Shikamaru stretched, then waved them off lazily. “Just go inside. He’s probably drinking tea or pretending to be asleep. Good luck.”

With that, he sat back down, already refocusing on his shogi match.

Hinata and Sakura exchanged glances before stepping toward the Nara household.

Inside the Nara household, Shikaku Nara sat at a low table, a steaming cup of tea in front of him. His posture was relaxed, but the moment Hinata and Sakura entered, his sharp eyes took them in immediately.

“Ah, Hyūga and Haruno,” he greeted smoothly. “Didn’t expect to see you here. What can I do for you?”

Sakura hesitated briefly, but Hinata stepped forward and bowed politely. “Shikaku-san… I need your help.”

Shikaku motioned for them to sit, resting his chin in his hand. “Go on.”

Hinata took a deep breath, her hands folding in her lap. “I want to change my clan. But I can’t do it alone.”

A brief silence followed.

Sakura stole a glance at Shikaku’s expression. His eyes were unreadable, but she could tell he was already assessing the situation.

Finally, Shikaku exhaled slowly, setting his tea down. “That’s not something you say lightly,” he murmured. “Changing a clan’s ways—especially one as rigid as the Hyūga—is no small feat. And you, Hinata-chan, don’t strike me as the type to challenge authority.”

Hinata swallowed but met his gaze with quiet resolve. “I know it won’t be easy. But… I’ve realized that the way my clan operates isn’t right. The Caged Bird Seal, the division between the Branch and Main Houses… it has to change.”

Shikaku leaned back, regarding her carefully. “And what exactly do you expect me to do?”

Hinata hesitated before answering, her voice steady. “I need guidance. Strategy. I know what I want to do, but I don’t know how to make it happen. You’re the most brilliant strategist in the village. I was hoping you could… help me see the best path forward.”

Shikaku studied her for a long moment before shifting his gaze to Sakura. “And what’s your role in all of this?”

Sakura straightened. “I’m here as her friend. And I want to support her however I can.”

Shikaku hummed in thought before finally sighing. “You’re putting me in a troublesome position, you know.”

Hinata lowered her head slightly. “I understand if you refuse. I won’t hold it against you.”

Shikaku watched her closely, then let out a low chuckle. “You remind me of your mother.”

Hinata’s breath caught in her throat.

Shikaku took another slow sip of tea. “Alright. I’ll listen. But before I offer any advice, I need to know exactly what you’re willing to risk.”

Hinata met his gaze.

“…Everything.”

Shikaku smirked , shaking his head “Well then, let’s talk”

Shikaku leaned back against the wooden wall, his fingers tapping idly against his teacup. His normally relaxed posture didn’t change much, but the sharpness in his eyes told a different story.

“You want to change the Hyūga clan,” he echoed slowly, as if weighing each word.

Hinata met his gaze and nodded. “Yes.”

He exhaled through his nose, setting his tea aside. “You do realize what that means, don’t you?”

“I do.”

Shikaku studied her carefully, then let out a low chuckle, though there was no humor in it.

“See, I don’t think you do,” he said flatly. “If you understood exactly what you’re proposing, you wouldn’t be here.”

Sakura frowned, crossing her arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Shikaku shot her a glance. “It means Hinata isn’t just talking about removing a seal. She’s talking about uprooting an entire system—a system that has kept the Hyūga in power for generations.”

He turned back to Hinata, his tone calm but firm.

“The Caged Bird Seal isn’t just about controlling the Branch House. It’s a political tool. It guarantees that no Branch member can ever challenge the Main House. It prevents outsiders from stealing the Byakugan. And, more importantly—it keeps the elders in power.”

Hinata’s hands curled into fists in her lap, but she remained silent.

“You think they’ll just sit back and let you change that?” Shikaku continued. “Even if you come up with a perfect alternative, you’ll be fighting against centuries of tradition. That means opposition from the elders, from your own family—even from the village council.”

Sakura stiffened. “The village council?”

Shikaku nodded. “The Hyūga clan isn’t just any clan. They’re one of the oldest and most politically powerful families in Konoha. Even the Hokage has to be careful when dealing with them. If you start messing with the way they operate, the village leaders might see it as a destabilization of power.”

Hinata took a deep breath. “I’ve already thought about this.”

Shikaku raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Hinata hesitated for only a second before speaking, her voice steady. “I… I already have an idea for an alternative seal.”

That got his attention. His eyes sharpened slightly.

Sakura glanced at her friend in surprise. “You do?”

Hinata nodded. “I don’t want to just remove the Caged Bird Seal. That would leave the Byakugan vulnerable to being stolen. But if I can create a new seal—one that protects the Byakugan without enslaving the Branch House—then I might be able to convince the elders that it’s in their best interest.”

Shikaku was silent for a long moment, studying her carefully. Then, he exhaled, rubbing his temples. “Man… what a drag.”

“But it could work, right?” Sakura pressed.

Shikaku let out a low sigh. “It’s not a bad approach. If you frame it as a security measure instead of an act of rebellion, it might make them listen.” He gave Hinata a pointed look. “But having an idea isn’t the same as making it work. Do you even know where to start?”

Hinata hesitated, then shook her head.

Shikaku smirked. “Thought so.” He leaned back, closing his eyes for a moment. “You’ll need to study existing fuinjutsu, analyze the Caged Bird Seal’s mechanics, and test every possible alternative. And even then, you’ll have to convince the elders that your idea is worth considering.”

Hinata took a breath. “I plan to brand every Hyūga with the new seal.”

Silence.

Sakura’s head snapped toward Hinata. “Wait, what?”

Even Shikaku, who had remained composed until now, opened his eyes fully and stared at her. “You’re not just trying to free the Branch House? You’re proposing that every single Hyūga gets branded? Including the Main House?”

Hinata met his gaze without hesitation. “Yes.”

Sakura shifted uncomfortably, her mind already racing through the potential consequences. “Hinata, I—” She paused, furrowing her brow. “Are you sure this is a good idea? You’re talking about messing with a seal that’s tied directly to the chakra pathways in the body. Altering something like that could have unintended consequences, especially on the nervous system. If it’s not done properly, it could disrupt the flow of chakra or even cause permanent damage.”

Shikaku’s eyes flickered with a sudden interest. “Go on.”

Sakura continued, more confident now that she had his attention. “The Caged Bird Seal doesn’t just bind the Branch House—it affects the brain’s control over the body’s movements. It interferes with the chakra pathways, essentially overriding the brain’s signals and creating intense pain. If we’re talking about altering the seal, we need to ensure that it won’t cause neurological damage or worse—permanent paralysis.” She paused, her expression growing more serious. “And if it’s altered incorrectly, it could even kill someone.”

Shikaku’s eyes widened just a fraction. “That’s a solid concern. I hadn’t thought about the biological aspect of it.”

Sakura pressed on, her voice steady. “If you’re not careful with the chakra system, the seal could turn from something used as a control measure to a tool that incapacitates or even kills the user. It’s not just about the Byakugan’s protection anymore—it’s about preventing harm to the Hyūga members who’d be branded.”

Shikaku’s gaze sharpened, now fully focused on Sakura. “So you’re suggesting you need to study the biological implications of the seal before even thinking about creating an alternative?”

Sakura nodded. “Exactly. Without understanding how it impacts the nervous system, there’s a risk that the seal could backfire—either hurting someone or being completely ineffective.”

Shikaku leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Well, I wasn’t planning on getting involved in this whole thing, but…”

Sakura looked at him, expectantly.

Shikaku sighed, rubbing his temples again. “If you’re serious about this, you’ll need someone to guide you through the biological side of things. The Nara clan specializes in medicine and understanding chakra pathways and neurological systems. I can teach you what we know.”

Sakura blinked in surprise. “Wait… are you saying you’ll train me?”

Shikaku met her gaze with a calm, almost amused expression. “You’ve got the right instincts, and if you’re going to tamper with a seal that affects the body’s very structure, you’ll need to know what you’re doing. I’ll teach you what I can, but don’t expect me to hold your hand. If you want to help Hinata, you’ll have to be quick, precise, and ready to handle the consequences of failure.”

Sakura grinned, already excited by the challenge. “I won’t let you down.”

Shikaku smirked slightly. “We’ll see.”

Hinata, who had been quietly observing, smiled softly. This wasn’t just a plan anymore. This was real progress.

After their talk with Shikaku, the two girls left the Nara household. As they stepped outside, they could feel Shikamaru and Asuma’s gazes on their backs, but neither reacted. There was no need to make the situation even more complicated.

For Sakura, it was a strange feeling—to be part of something so big, so intricate. The weight of what they were trying to do pressed heavily on her, and she couldn’t deny that she was scared of what the future might bring. But right now, she was ready to fight, no matter how long it took to reach their goal.

As they made their way toward the training grounds, where they would meet Kurenai and Kakashi-sensei, Hinata was unusually quiet. Anyone who knew her well enough would recognize that she only ever spaced out like this when Naruto was around.

“Hinata, is something bothering you?” Sakura asked, concern evident in her voice.

“I’m fine, Sakura. I just… this whole plan is becoming more and more real,” Hinata admitted. “But I don’t know if I’ll be strong enough to actually achieve it.”

“What are you talking about, Hinata?” Sakura nearly shouted, startling her friend. Hinata turned to her with a conflicted expression, her pale eyes filled with doubt.

“You’ve been working so hard,” Sakura continued, frustration laced in her voice. “You even went through so much trouble to build a plan, but now you’re hesitating?”

Hinata shook her head. “I think you misunderstood me, Sakura. I will go through with it, no matter what. But… I don’t know if I’m strong enough to see it through to the end.” Her voice dropped to a near whisper.

“My personality has always been timid, and even though I’ve become more confident, I still don’t know how to stand in front of the clan elders and convince them. And if, in the process, the Branch House members end up suffering even more… I won’t be able to live with that guilt.”

Sakura fell silent for a moment, studying her friend. Hinata had been working tirelessly, pushing herself beyond her limits for the sake of those she cared about. It made Sakura proud to be her friend.

“Hinata, I don’t know how you’ll sway the elders either,” she admitted. “But I do know you’ll find a way. We both knew from the start that this wouldn’t be easy, that change would take time. So don’t rush it. Think everything through—step by step.”

A comfortable silence settled between them, but Sakura wasn’t fond of quiet moments like these, especially when they left room for doubt. Wanting to lighten the mood, she changed the subject.

“And now, Kakashi-sensei is going to teach me how to enhance my strength with chakra!” she exclaimed with excitement.

Hinata’s eyes brightened. “That’s amazing, Sakura! My training has been productive too,” she said, though she hesitated before continuing, almost reluctant to say her next words out loud. “I think… I need to spar with Neji to truly understand my weaknesses.”

Sakura’s mouth dropped open in shock. She knew better than anyone how strained Hinata and Neji’s relationship was. A spar between them could go horribly wrong—Neji might take it as an opportunity to seriously hurt her. But at the same time, she couldn’t deny that Hinata had a point. Neji was a prodigy. A fight with him would expose her weaknesses in a way no one else could.

“But I don’t think he’ll agree to spar with you, Hinata,” Sakura said softly.

“I know,” Hinata replied, her voice steadier now. Determined. “But there’s one way to make sure he can’t refuse.”

Sakura’s eyes widened in realization.

“The Chūnin Exams.”

Chapter Text

The forest was alive with the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze, the sharp sound of combat training echoing through the trees. Hinata and Sakura stood before Aria, the older Hyūga’s sharp gaze scanning both of them.

“Today, we’re pushing you both,” Aria said calmly. “Hinata, you’ll focus on refining the Gentle Fist techniques—Rotation, 64 Palms, and Air Palm. Sakura, you’ll work on your combat abilities, but I have something else in mind for you today.”

Sakura nodded, a little nervous but ready for anything. She had been training with Kakashi on chakra enhancement techniques, but she knew that combat required more than just strength. The time had come for her to find a balance.

“Hinata, let’s begin with your Rotation,” Aria said. “Focus on your core chakra. Release it smoothly. The key is consistency.”

Hinata closed her eyes, her hands placed at her sides as she began to gather chakra. She felt the familiar pressure building in her core. Slowly, she started to push it outwards, creating the thin veil of chakra that surrounded her body.

Aria watched carefully, noting the small inconsistencies in the chakra flow. “You’re doing well, but remember—smoothness is the key. Try again, and this time, visualize the chakra as one uninterrupted flow.”

Hinata nodded, her brow furrowing in concentration. With a deep breath, she repeated the motion. The barrier formed more evenly, the chakra expanding around her with more fluidity.

“Better,” Aria observed, her voice steady. “Now let’s move to 64 Palms. Keep the flow sharp, but don’t lose control. Disrupt the chakra points, but do it with precision.”

Hinata stepped forward and began her series of rapid strikes, each movement a blur of speed and power. As her palms made contact with the air, she could feel the flow of chakra, the familiar pulse that guided each strike. But Aria could see the slight hesitation in her movements.

“Don’t hesitate,” Aria said. “Your strikes should be seamless. Keep the pressure constant, and let the flow guide you.”

Hinata nodded, adjusting her posture. This time, her strikes came quicker, the chakra flaring more evenly with each blow. The air hummed with energy as her palms blurred in the familiar 64 Palms pattern.

“Good,” Aria said. “Now, let’s move on to you, Sakura.”

Sakura stepped forward, her fists clenched in anticipation. “What do you have in mind for me?”

Aria’s eyes gleamed with a hint of something tactical. “You’ve been training with Kakashi to enhance your chakra, but you also need to learn how to apply that strength in combat. You’ve got the power, but now we need to refine your approach.”

Sakura nodded, her mind already thinking through the techniques Kakashi had taught her. She was used to relying on her strength, but now, it was time to make it more controlled.

Aria stepped forward, her movements sharp and precise. “Here’s what I want you to work on: add speed and precision to your strikes. Use your chakra-enhanced strength, but don’t let it be your only weapon. Attack with purpose.”

Sakura raised her hands and focused, channeling chakra into her limbs. Her movements were quick, the burst of chakra sending a shockwave of power through the air as her fists struck the training dummy. The impact was hard, but the technique felt a little stiff, lacking fluidity.

“Not bad,” Aria said, observing the strike. “You’ve got the raw power, but there’s something more we can add. Fluidity. Don’t force the hit—let your strength flow naturally. Focus on your timing.”

Sakura exhaled, resetting her stance. She tried again, this time focusing on her movements. She threw a punch, faster, and guided the chakra to release at the right moment, not all at once, but with the right burst.

The impact was still powerful, but there was a finesse to it now, a natural flow that made it more effective. Aria smiled.

“Better. But now, I’m going to recommend something that will take your combat to the next level.”

Sakura blinked, confused but intrigued. “What do you mean?”

Aria’s gaze sharpened. “You have the strength for it, and I think you’d excel with weapons. Specifically, battle axes.”

Sakura raised an eyebrow. “Battle axes?”

“Yes,” Aria nodded. “Your strength is ideal for wielding two. They will allow you to channel your chakra into a more versatile, ranged form of attack. With your speed and control, you’ll be able to land devastating blows, but it’s going to take practice.”

Sakura looked at Aria, unsure at first. “But I’ve never used weapons like that before…”

“I’ll teach you,” Aria said with a sly grin. “We’ll start with basic handling, and I’ll show you how to integrate chakra control into your strikes. Trust me, you’ll be a force with them.”

Sakura looked at the ground for a moment, considering the idea. Then, she nodded, determination returning to her expression. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

Aria tossed two wooden practice axes toward Sakura, who caught them with ease. The weight felt different in her hands, but it wasn’t overwhelming. Aria gestured for her to stand in position.

“First, grip the axes firmly. Channel chakra into them, but don’t overdo it. You need to feel the balance,” Aria instructed.

Sakura took a deep breath and focused, channeling chakra into the battle axes. She could feel the weight of the weapon shift, the chakra enhancing its balance and sharpness. She lifted one axe and swung it down in a controlled arc, testing the movement.

“Not bad,” Aria said, stepping closer. “But remember—your power is your ally, not your crutch. Move fluidly, use your chakra to control the swing, but don’t overpower it.”

Sakura nodded, adjusting her stance. She swung both axes in tandem now, more fluidly, her chakra guiding the swings. The motion was surprisingly graceful, and the added weight of the axes only seemed to enhance her strength.

Aria watched, satisfied. “Perfect. You’ll need time to master this, but you’ve got the potential.”

Meanwhile, Hinata was practicing the Air Palm, her chakra flowing more naturally with each release. The gusts of wind she created sliced through the air with sharp precision, a mark of her growing skill.

As the sun began to set, Aria called them both to a stop.

“Today was good,” she said, her voice filled with quiet approval. “You’ve both made great progress. Keep training. We’ll push harder next time.”

Hinata and Sakura both nodded, feeling the weight of their progress—and the road ahead.

After their grueling training session with Aria, Hinata and Sakura could barely move. Every muscle in their bodies felt sore, and their breath was labored. Aria, as always, was a strict teacher, pushing them to their limits and beyond. She had set high expectations for them, but the rewards were clear—they had grown stronger.

As they finished up, Aria spoke with her usual calm, authoritative tone. "You should both come back in a week," she said. "I’ll want to check on your progress."

With that, she left them to gather their things and head back toward the village. The streets felt quieter now that the training was over, but the weight of the day’s effort hung heavily on their shoulders. Despite their exhaustion, both girls were deep in thought. The weight of the upcoming Chūnin Exams loomed over them.

Sakura walked alongside Hinata, her mind still spinning from their conversation with Shikaku earlier. She couldn’t stop thinking about Hinata’s wish to face Neji during the exams. It seemed like such a monumental challenge, and it made Sakura realize how deeply Hinata felt the pressure.

Even though she was happy with the progress she had made, something about it all felt so much more real now. The excitement and fear mingled in her chest as she walked. And then, it hit her—the feelings Hinata had spoken of earlier in their conversation. She understood now. The anxiety, the pressure, the need to prove herself—it was all so overwhelming, and yet, Hinata had been carrying that burden alone.

Sakura’s gaze shifted to Hinata. "So how are you feeling, Hinata?" she asked, her voice a little softer. "The Chūnin Exams are in two weeks... Do you think we’ll be able to show our abilities?"

Hinata paused for a moment, her voice quiet but certain. "Yes, I do think we will show them our abilities. And even if we don’t become Chūnin, we’ll still make a good impression on the people."

Sakura smiled at her friend's optimism, but she couldn’t help the lingering doubt in her own heart. "You’re right," she said, though her voice betrayed her uncertainty. "But I still get scared. After all, there’s a big difference between a training ground and a battlefield."

Hinata nodded, her expression thoughtful. "That is true," she agreed. "But we should not give up."

Sakura glanced at her friend, feeling a warmth in her chest at Hinata’s words. "After all, Sakura, you are the main reason I’m able to be more confident. So please, have some confidence in yourself as well."

Those words hit Sakura harder than she expected. Her eyes softened as she looked at Hinata. "Thanks, Hinata," she said, her voice more determined. "I’ll try."

Just then, the change in her mood was almost instant. "Hey, we also need to meet up with Shikaku-san tomorrow, right?"

Hinata nodded. "Yes, he said we should meet with Shikamaru first."

Sakura raised an eyebrow. "It seems like he wants to avoid suspicion," she said in a serious tone.

Before Hinata could respond, a voice called out from behind them. "Who wants to avoid suspicion?"

Sakura and Hinata turned around in surprise. There, walking toward them with a casual stride, were none other than Naruto and the Third Hokage.

Naruto grinned widely, oblivious to the tension in the air. "Hey! You two look like you’ve been through a war," he teased. "What’s up? Training too hard?"

The Third Hokage, walking beside him with his usual calm demeanor, observed them thoughtfully. "It’s good to see young shinobi pushing their limits. You’re preparing for the exams, aren’t you?"

Sakura straightened up, giving Naruto a small smile despite her exhaustion. "Yeah, we’re trying to get ready," she said. "But it’s a lot to take in."

Hinata, though still tired, nodded with a small, shy smile. "Yes, we are preparing."

Naruto raised his fists with excitement, a huge grin on his face. "I can’t wait! The Chūnin Exams are gonna be awesome!"

The Third Hokage chuckled at Naruto’s enthusiasm, but his eyes remained thoughtful. "Indeed, the exams will be a significant moment for all of you. Make sure you are ready, both physically and mentally."

Sakura’s gaze lingered on the Third Hokage, but her mind was still preoccupied. "We’ll do our best," she murmured, but her thoughts were with the upcoming challenges and the weight of their training.

As Naruto continued to ramble about the exams, Sakura’s mind returned to the conversation with Shikaku. It felt like there were so many hidden layers to the situation, so much more going on than just their training. There was politics, strategy, and deeper stakes involved. And with that, the reality of the situation hit her once again.

"You okay, Sakura?" Hinata asked, her voice full of concern.

Sakura nodded quickly, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just thinking," she said. "Let's keep going. We’ve got a lot to do before the exams."

And so, the two girls, with Naruto and the Hokage following behind them, walked toward the center of the village. Despite the weight of the future pressing down on them, they walked together, side by side, ready to face whatever came next.

Chapter Text

The morning air was crisp as Team 7 gathered at their usual training spot. Naruto stretched his arms behind his head, rocking on his heels, while Sasuke stood with his arms crossed, his sharp eyes scanning the clearing. Kakashi, as always, stood off to the side, an eye on his students while his face remained buried in his book.

But today, something was different.

Sakura stood across from them, her expression calm but unreadable. There was a quiet confidence about her that hadn’t been there before. She reached behind her back and—shing—drew two gleaming battle axes from their secured holsters.

Naruto blinked. “Uh… Sakura? What’s with the axes?”

Sasuke’s brow furrowed slightly. He hadn't expected her to take up weapons—especially those weapons.

Kakashi, on the other hand, simply closed his book with a quiet snap. “Interesting choice.”

Sakura smirked, adjusting her grip. “They were recommended to me. I’ve been training with them, and I thought it was time to test them out.”

Naruto pointed dramatically. “Wait, wait, wait! Since when do you fight with axes? I mean—cool, yeah, but why axes?!”

“They suit me,” she said simply.

Kakashi tilted his head. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got. Naruto, Sasuke—spar with her.”

Sasuke narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t about to hold back just because it was Sakura. He dashed forward first, testing her reaction. She didn’t flinch. Instead, she shifted her stance and raised her weapons, deflecting his punch with the blunt side of an axe before twisting into a counterattack. He barely moved in time to avoid the downward swing, the force of it cracking the ground where he had just stood.

She’s stronger.

Naruto didn’t wait—he lunged in, aiming a spinning kick at her side. Sakura planted her foot and intercepted the kick with the handle of one axe, then swung the second one at him. Naruto yelped, dodging just in time. “Okay, okay, whoa! You’re serious!”

Sakura smirked. “You expected anything less?”

Kakashi watched carefully. She wasn’t just swinging wildly—her movements were controlled, efficient. She was incorporating her taijutsu training well. The axes were just an extension of her strength.

Sasuke wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Tch. Not bad.”

Naruto grinned, rubbing the back of his head. “This is so cool. Sakura’s got axes! Who knew?”

Kakashi finally spoke. “You’ve improved, Sakura. But there’s still more work to do. Those weapons are powerful, but they also slow you down if you misuse them. Keep refining your technique.”

Sakura nodded. She wasn’t done growing—not by a long shot. But seeing the surprise in her teammates’ eyes? That was satisfying.

The tension in the air was thick as Sakura adjusted her grip on the twin battle axes. Her teammates had already seen glimpses of her improved strength, but she wasn’t done yet. She needed to show them just how far she had come.

Sasuke dashed forward again, feinting to the left before launching a high kick at her shoulder. She barely dodged in time, pivoting on her heel and swinging her axe in a wide arc. He backflipped out of range, but Sakura wasn’t done.

She turned, her gaze locking onto Naruto, who had just finished forming a shadow clone. He lunged with a punch, but she saw it coming. Instead of dodging, she planted her feet.

Naruto barely had time to react before—

BOOM.

Sakura raised one axe high and brought it down with all her strength. The impact sent a shockwave through the training ground, the earth beneath her exploding into jagged shards of rock and dust. A deep crater formed at the point of impact, cracks racing outward like lightning.

Naruto and Sasuke were both forced to jump back as the ground trembled beneath them.

For a brief moment, there was silence. Then—

“W-what the hell?!” Naruto shouted, eyes wide as he scrambled to keep his balance. “Did you just—break the ground?!”

Sasuke landed smoothly a few feet away, staring at the crater. His expression was unreadable, but his fists clenched slightly. That power…

Kakashi whistled, finally closing his book. “Well. That was unexpected.”

Sakura straightened, exhaling. The handle of her axe was still firmly in her grip, but the force of the impact had caused the blade to crack slightly. Tiny fissures ran along its metal surface.

She ran a hand over it, frowning. Too much force. I need to control it better.

Naruto gawked at her. “That was insane! You’re like, super strong now! When did this happen?!”

Sasuke, still silent, finally spoke. “Tch. If you’re going to fight like that, you better make sure you don’t leave yourself open after an attack.”

Sakura smirked, rolling her shoulders. “Noted.”

Kakashi walked over and glanced at the damaged axe. “You’re improving fast. But strength without control can backfire. Learn to harness it properly, and you’ll be unstoppable.”

Sakura nodded. She was strong, yes—but she wasn’t done learning. Not yet.

The forest was still, the only sounds coming from the rustling of leaves and the soft chirping of insects. Team 8 stood in their usual clearing, ready for another training session.

Kurenai glanced at her students, then nodded toward Hinata and Shino. “You two will spar today.”

Shino adjusted his glasses. “Understood.”

Hinata took a deep breath. Sparring against Kiba was one thing—his fighting style was straightforward. But Shino? He was careful, methodical, and nearly unreadable. She couldn’t rely on his emotions or reactions to gauge his next move.

Kiba whistled. “This’ll be interesting. Shino’s a pain to fight, Hinata. You sure you’re ready?”

Hinata nodded, stepping into her stance. I have to be.

Kurenai raised a hand. “Begin.”

The moment her hand dropped, Shino disappeared.

Hinata’s eyes widened slightly. She activated her Byakugan, scanning the area. He wasn’t moving toward her—he was waiting. Observing.

He wants me to make the first move.

Fine.

Hinata surged forward, her movements sharp and precise. She aimed for the center of his chest, but just before she could land the hit, Shino sidestepped smoothly, his coat barely shifting.

Then—a swarm of kikaichū beetles burst from his sleeve.

Hinata jumped back immediately, flipping to gain distance. The insects followed, but she was already moving, her eyes tracking each tiny body in the air.

She struck the air with her Gentle Fist, releasing a small pulse of chakra that disrupted the swarm’s formation. It wasn’t a full-scale attack, but it was just enough to make them hesitate.

Shino’s voice was calm. “Interesting.”

His insects reformed, adjusting to her tactic. They moved differently now, shifting patterns—adapting.

Hinata clenched her fists. She had to end this fast.

Darting forward, she pretended to go for a direct attack again. Shino reacted, shifting his weight—but that was what she wanted.

At the last second, she twisted her body, rotating behind him with a burst of speed. Her palm struck his arm before he could react, sending a controlled pulse of chakra through his sleeve.

The kikaichū scattered instantly, retreating as Shino’s connection to them briefly faltered.

Shino exhaled slowly. “You’re different.”

Hinata lowered her stance, still alert. “I… have been training.”

Kiba gawked. “No kidding! You just messed up his swarm! I’ve never seen you fight like that before.”

Shino adjusted his glasses. “Your movements are sharper. More controlled.” He glanced at his sleeve, where his insects were still recovering from the chakra disruption. “You’re applying your attacks with a different precision than before.”

Kurenai smiled slightly. “That’s enough for now.”

Hinata exhaled, slowly standing upright. She had won—not a full victory, but she had held her own against Shino.

Shino gave her a small nod. “You’re improving, Hinata. Keep going.”

Hinata smiled softly. She would.

The next few days were a blur for both Sakura and Hinata. They intensified their training with their respective teams, alongside additional sessions with Kurenai and Kakashi-sensei. Occasionally, Asuma would tag along. Twice a week, they trained with Aria—by far the most grueling part of their routine.

Aria was ruthless. She pushed them to their limits, showing no mercy. She worked extensively on Sakura’s chakra control and introduced her to axe training. Meanwhile, Hinata was forced to practice Hyūga clan techniques until she executed them flawlessly.

A few times, they visited Shikaku to further Hinata’s plans regarding the seal and to expand Sakura’s knowledge of medicine.

Tension within the Hyūga clan was growing. The elders had been pressuring Hiashi about Hinata’s training, but he knew better than to interfere with Aria’s methods. Still, he had his own duties—such as training Hanabi.

As he walked through the compound, he caught sight of Neji. The boy trained relentlessly, just as his father had. But unlike his father, Neji was driven by a deep-seated fury, fueled by the injustices of the clan. Hiashi understood that anger.

Yet, in the grand scheme of things, Hiashi had lost faith in the clan. And he knew that, ultimately, the greatest failure was his own. He had bowed to the elders’ demands, abandoning the change he once wished to bring.

Every time he looked at Neji, he was reminded of what he had become—a pathetic man, unable to protect those he loved.

But Hinata was changing. And somewhere deep inside him, a flicker of hope still remained.

Before he could dwell on it further, he heard footsteps approaching. He kept walking, but as he turned a corner, he came face-to-face with Hikari Hyūga—one of the most influential elders of the main branch.

The older man inclined his head slightly in greeting. “How is our dear clan head today?” he asked, a hint of smugness lacing his tone.

“I’m fine,” Hiashi replied curtly. “I was just on my way to train Hanabi, so if you’ll excuse me—”

“Wait a moment, Hiashi,” Hikari interrupted, his voice turning serious.

“At the next meeting—after the Chūnin Exams—we will discuss the matter of the clan’s heir.” He paused, then smirked. “If dear Hinata fails to show any promise, we plan to brand her with the Cursed Seal. After all, a disappointment like that cannot be the clan head.”

Hiashi clenched his fists, resisting the urge to lash out. He knew better than to react emotionally. Instead, he could only hope that Hinata would prove herself—with Aria’s help.

As he resumed walking, a feeling of unease settled in his chest. A familiar presence was watching him.

Neji.

At that moment, Hiashi felt Neji’s chakra spike. His gaze flickered toward the boy, who stood frozen in place, his expression unreadable. But Hiashi knew.

Neji had heard everything.

Chapter Text

The rhythmic sound of his strikes filled the Hyūga training grounds. Neji moved with precision, his Byakugan activated, every motion calculated to perfection. He barely registered the passing footsteps of the clan head—until he heard a voice that made his movements falter.

Hikari Hyūga.

Neji had no interest in eavesdropping, but when he heard Hinata’s name, he instinctively stilled, focusing his chakra to sharpen his hearing.

“After the Chūnin Exams, we will discuss the matter of the heir.”

His fingers twitched.

“If dear Hinata fails to show any promise, we plan to brand her with the Cursed Seal. After all, a disappointment like that cannot be the clan head.”

For a moment, Neji forgot to breathe. His vision blurred at the edges, not from exhaustion but from shock.

Brand Hinata?

It wasn’t that he disagreed—no, fate had already decided that weaklings would be trampled underfoot. The world didn’t change for people like Hinata. That was what he had always believed.

But hearing it stated so plainly—like it was inevitable, like her entire existence was already condemned—made something twist uncomfortably in his chest.

His fists clenched.

Why does this bother me?

The moment passed, and Neji quickly reined in his emotions. He had known since childhood that Hinata was weak. The clan elders had never seen her as anything else, and neither had he.

So why did this feel different?

Then he remembered.

Her stance in training. The sharper footwork. The way she no longer hesitated before striking. It was subtle, but Neji had noticed. Hinata was changing.

It wasn’t enough—not yet. But if she continued like this…

His grip tightened. He hated how uncertain that thought made him feel.

Then his gaze shifted.

Hiashi had resumed walking, but Neji’s Byakugan caught the tension in his shoulders. That was the most unsettling thing of all. The clan head was silent, but not indifferent.

And for the first time in Neji’s life, he saw something he had never associated with Hiashi Hyūga.

Doubt.

Shikamaru leaned against the porch of his family’s compound, arms crossed as he watched his father carefully place shogi pieces on the board.

"Something on your mind, son?" Shikaku asked, not looking up.

Shikamaru sighed. "Hinata and Sakura. They're up to something."

His father gave him a sideways glance. "Oh?"

Shikamaru scratched the back of his head, staring at the sky. "They've been training like crazy. Sakura’s been hitting harder than before, and Hinata—she’s moving differently. More precise. More confident. Like she's actually starting to think two steps ahead instead of just reacting."

Shikaku made his move. "And?"

"And I know they're training with you. At least, Sakura is."

Shikaku chuckled. "You say that like it's a problem."

"It is when I don’t know why," Shikamaru muttered. "Hinata's never been the type to push herself like this. She’s always been the timid one. But now? She's more focused. And Sakura’s getting stronger in a way that doesn’t match just Kakashi’s training."

Shikaku smirked. "Noticing that much, huh?"

Shikamaru frowned. "Dad, what are you two actually working on?"

Shikaku didn't answer immediately. Instead, he moved another piece on the board, looking thoughtful.

"I'm helping them because they asked," he finally said. "Hinata has a plan. And honestly? It’s not a bad one."

Shikamaru's eyes narrowed. "A plan? What kind of plan?"

"You’ll figure it out soon enough," Shikaku said, standing up. "For now, just keep watching. And tell me what you see."

Shikamaru groaned. "Troublesome."

But even as he complained, his curiosity only grew.

Something big was happening.

And he intended to find out what.

The compound was quiet.

Hinata stood alone in the training yard, her eyes drifting toward the stone path that wound through the garden. It was strange how familiar everything felt—the pale morning light, the distant hum of activity in the main house—but nothing was the same. Not anymore.

This match… it was her idea. Her request.

She had asked to fight Neji.

She hadn’t expected him to agree. Not really. She had seen the way his expression had shifted when she spoke, the flicker of something unreadable behind his eyes. He hadn’t said much—just nodded—but she knew. He wouldn’t fight her again. Not after this. Not until the exams forced his hand.

She lowered her gaze, fingers curling against the sleeves of her jacket.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to—he couldn’t.

The curse mark made sure of that.

If this weren’t the Hyūga compound, if her father hadn’t been standing nearby, maybe he would’ve said no.

She had only one chance.

And even now, she knew—he wouldn’t give it his all.

Not because she was strong. Not because she’d earned his respect. But because she was someone he couldn’t hurt.

She hated that.

It was the same feeling that had followed her for years. The same weight pressing down on her lungs when she watched him fight others with the kind of force he never used on her. She had trained harder than she ever thought possible—her limbs aching, her body pushed to the edge—and still, there would be a part of him holding back.

That was the truth of their clan.

And yet… she needed this.

Even if he gave her half of himself, she would give everything.

Because this was the only time before the Chūnin Exams she could stand in front of him—not as a burden or as a girl he had to bow to—but as a fighter.

Even if he didn’t see it now, she had to try.

She looked up as the wind stirred the branches above. Her hands steadied. Her breath slowed.

He was coming.

And this time… she wouldn’t flinch.

Shikamaru hadn’t planned to be here.

He stood beside Asuma, half-shadowed under the wooden eaves of the Hyūga estate. Officially, they were here to deliver a message from the Hokage about upcoming clan briefings. Unofficially, Asuma had smirked and said, “Figured you’d want to see this.”

“This?” Shikamaru had asked, raising an eyebrow.

Asuma had only nodded toward the courtyard.

Now, Shikamaru watched as Hinata and Neji faced each other in the center of the ring. He recognized the Hyūga style immediately—those fluid movements, those graceful arcs of chakra-charged strikes.

But Hinata’s form… was tighter. No wasted motion. No fear.

That was new.

Neji moved like water, as always—flawless, deliberate. But even Shikamaru, who wasn’t a taijutsu expert, noticed it: Neji wasn’t going full force. He could tell in the way his shoulders didn’t follow through on the last rotation. In the way his foot landed just half a beat too softly.

He’s holding back.

And Hinata wasn’t. Not fully, at least. But she wasn’t afraid either. That was important.

Asuma leaned in slightly. “What do you think?”

Shikamaru didn’t answer.

His eyes drifted to Neji’s face as the match ended in that eerie, silent draw. Neji bowed stiffly. His jaw was clenched.

Then something flickered. Just for a moment.

His gaze moved past Hinata, to the elders watching. To Hiashi, arms crossed, unreadable.

Shikamaru saw it then—not hate exactly, but something bitterer. Something buried so deep it had eaten its way through.

Resentment.

Not toward Hinata.

Toward the seal on his own fate.

Neji turned his back and left without a word.

Shikamaru leaned against one of the wooden posts that lined the walkway of the Hyūga courtyard, arms crossed, eyes half-closed, but still very much awake. From where he stood, he’d observed every movement, every shift in stance, every subtle change in chakra.

The match had been brief. Quiet. Too quiet.

Neji hadn’t given it his all. He hadn’t even come close. But that wasn’t what had Shikamaru’s attention.

It was Hinata.

When they bowed, her eyes didn’t drop. Her posture didn’t falter. She moved with a confidence he hadn’t seen from her before. Graceful, yes. But there was a quiet strength behind it now. Something deeper.

And Neji had noticed, too.

Shikamaru waited until the courtyard cleared—until even Neji had slipped into the estate’s depths. Only then did he let his arms fall to his sides, stretching his shoulders as a soft exhale escaped him.

“She’s different.”

The thought came and went, like a cloud drifting across the sky.

She hadn’t learned that on her own. Not in the short time since they’d started preparing for the exams. This was something older, something more ingrained.

That stance—the way she redirected rather than blocked—it wasn’t standard Hyūga technique.

Shikamaru narrowed his eyes.

Where did she learn it?

And then there was Neji—walking away without a word. No smug grin. No cold lecture. Just silence. His shoulders were tense. His fists clenched as though he was holding something back.

Shikamaru stared at the place where they’d just sparred.

Neji’s stronger. He always has been. But he didn’t push her. Didn’t question it. Like he knew there was no point.

He clicked his tongue softly.

“Man… what a drag.”

But his mind was already working.

Hinata’s changing. Quietly. Slowly. And no one’s saying anything. Not her team, not her cousin, not even her clan…

He narrowed his eyes again.

But his father knows. Asuma’s been watching her differently too. Like he’s waiting for something to happen.

He glanced up at the sky.

If they’re hiding this carefully… it’s more than just a stronger stance or faster reflexes. Something bigger is going on.

The breeze picked up, rustling the leaves above him.

Shikamaru shoved his hands in his pockets.

Troublesome.

But he wouldn’t stop watching.

Not until he figured it out.

The compound was still at night—too still. The kind of silence that settled around you, making the walls feel like they were listening. Neji sat by the open window in his room, moonlight spilling in, painting the floor in long, pale strips. He hadn’t bothered to change out of his training clothes.

The match from earlier played in his mind, scene by scene.

She was different.

Her footwork. Her confidence. Her timing.

That wasn’t the same cousin he remembered from a year ago. The girl who had stumbled through kata. The one whose gaze was always fixed downward. Today, she had met his eyes. And for just a moment… he had seen something sharp in her. A glimmer of steel, like a blade she hadn’t drawn yet.

She’s improving.

But not on her own. Someone was training her. Carefully. Secretly.

He could feel it.

And he knew exactly who had allowed it.

Hiashi-sama.

Neji’s jaw tightened. Of course. Of course, he would favor her. She was the heir. She was the one born to lead, to stand above. It didn’t matter if she had been weak before. People like her always got more chances.

And people like him?

They got orders. Obedience. A cursed seal that still left its mark on his soul, even when it wasn’t active. It lingered there, not physically, but spiritually. A brand, etched deep, an inescapable weight.

He thought back to the match.

He had held back. Even when he hadn’t meant to.

There had been a moment—a clean opening, a flash of her side exposed—but his hand had hesitated. His chakra hadn’t surged. Not fully.

What was the point?

If he’d struck harder, she would’ve been praised for her endurance. If he’d won decisively, they would’ve called it cruelty. And if he’d lost?

It would’ve just been destiny’s will anyway.

He exhaled slowly, his eyes dull beneath the moonlight.

There’s no path forward for me. Not here.

Not in the clan. Not with the seal. Not when someone like Hinata—quiet, overlooked—could rise, simply because she was born above him.

Maybe the Chūnin Exams would change things for her.

But not for him.

Fate had already chosen his place.

And it wasn’t beside her.

It was behind.

Chapter Text

Aria took a fighting stance , ready to spar with both Hinata and Sakura simuntineusly . Of course she would not go all out on them after all they just started to train seriously . But it didn’t mean that she would underesttemet them, after all she saw there progress  with her own eyes  , and she had really good eyes .

Sakura was fighting without her weapon today . After all she will not always be able to really on them . Hinata on the other hand would not use the byakugan.

“If you two want to develop further than you should find alternative ways to fight , because sometimes you might not have that privilege “

She said that to them two days ago  and of course she was not expecting great results , since both of them have not yet fully grasped there stranghts and weeknesses , so to unexpectedly change there style must be hard for them .

But ninjas must be able to adapt to a lot of different situaltions  and with the chunin exams being just two days away she decided to focus on the things they lack , but she was sure that , just in few months they would be a well realized ninjas.

The ground was already torn up from their earlier exchanges.

Sakura’s breathing was heavy, her palms scraped, dirt smudged across her jaw. She barely had time to duck as Aria's palm sliced through the air just inches from her face—sharp, precise, measured. No wasted movement.

Hinata came in from the right, low and fast, aiming a series of Gentle Fist strikes to Aria’s side. But Aria pivoted smoothly, catching Hinata’s wrist with her own and redirecting her with barely a nudge.

“Don’t chase where I’ve been,” Aria said calmly. “Anticipate where I’m going.”

Hinata tried to regain her footing, but Aria’s foot swept forward in a flash, knocking her balance out from under her. She rolled away, using the momentum to recover, but the frustration in her eyes was impossible to miss.

Across the clearing, Sakura surged forward, chakra flaring in her fists. She didn’t have her axes, but she didn’t need them. She struck with raw, controlled strength, aiming for Aria’s shoulder—but the older kunoichi dropped beneath the swing and landed a palm strike squarely in Sakura’s stomach.

Sakura stumbled back with a sharp gasp, pain blooming through her abdomen.

“You’re still relying on brute strength,” Aria murmured, stepping back to give them both space. “Power is useless if it never lands.”

Sakura wiped blood from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.

“We’re not done yet.”

Aria smiled faintly. Not mocking. Not cruel. Just… expectant.

Hinata returned to Sakura’s side. Neither said anything, but there was a shared look—an unspoken agreement.

Go again.

They launched forward in tandem—Sakura leading high, fists swinging wide to push Aria back, while Hinata darted underneath with feints and palm strikes meant to distract and misdirect.

Aria blocked Sakura’s first punch, then Hinata’s second. But when Sakura shifted her weight—deliberately missing a punch—it opened just enough space for Hinata to land a glancing strike to Aria’s ribs.

It wasn’t much.

But it was something.

Aria stepped back, just once, and lifted her hand to pause the match.

Both girls were panting. Bruised. Drained.

But they were standing.

And smiling.

Aria crossed her arms, nodding once. “Better.”

The match should have been over by now.

But it wasn’t.

Aria could feel it—that shift in rhythm. The way their movements weren’t just reactive anymore. They were planning. Reading her. Setting something up.

Good.

Sakura suddenly charged again, chakra surging, but this time she wasn’t aiming to hit. Aria blocked out of habit—but felt nothing. No contact. No weight. Just air.

Genjutsu.

Aria’s lips twitched.

Clever girl.

She closed her eyes and reached for her chakra, ready to dispel it—but in that split second of stillness—

Hinata moved.

Fast. Too fast.

Blue lightning crackled at her fingertips, dancing along her arms like veins of energy. She didn’t yell. She didn’t hesitate. She simply appeared in Aria’s blind spot, her palm glowing with barely-contained voltage.

Lightning Palm.

The chakra didn’t pierce. Aria shifted just enough to avoid a full strike—but the current grazed her shoulder, disrupting her flow for just a breath.

A breath was enough.

Sakura’s illusion deepened.

In Aria’s vision, dozens of Sakura clones flickered around her, all shifting, weaving, overlapping. They spoke at once—softly, calmly.

“Which one of us is real?”

Aria closed her eyes again, slowing her breathing, grounding herself.

Kai.

The illusion shattered. The clones vanished like mist. But by the time her vision cleared—

Hinata was mid-air above her.

The girl twisted in the air, electricity crackling along her heels, and drove her leg downward in an arc.

Aria lifted her arm to block—and felt the full weight of the blow.

Her feet slid half a step back in the dirt.

Now that’s new.

She caught Hinata’s leg before the girl could recoil, twisting her balance away without malice. In the same fluid motion, she spun and knocked Sakura’s second punch off-line, letting the girl tumble past her with her own momentum.

Then Aria stepped back.

Hands lowered.

Match ended.

Sakura and Hinata stood side by side—panting, sweat dripping down their faces, but alive with adrenaline.

Aria dusted off her shoulder.

“Finally,” she said, her tone light but satisfied. “You're not fighting alone anymore.”

Sakura blinked.

“You layered that Genjutsu over Hinata’s attack,” Aria continued, “and Hinata, you waited for the window it would open. That’s what makes a team. Not matching abilities. Not strength.”

She looked at both of them.

“Timing.”

Hinata bowed slightly. Sakura straightened up, still catching her breath—but smiling.

And in that moment, Aria knew they were ready.

Maybe not for the world.

But for the Chūnin Exams?

Yes.

After their afternoon training with Aria, both girls decided to walk through Konoha for a while.

Kurenai and Kakashi had told them that there would be no training tomorrow—rest day, they’d called it. They needed to conserve their strength for the Chūnin Exams, which were now just two days away.

Sakura still couldn’t believe it.

She had trained harder than ever before, learned more than she thought possible. But the anxiety was starting to creep in—slow, quiet, and persistent. What if she forgot the material Shikaku-san had taught her? What if she couldn’t remember how to break a Genjutsu? What if she froze up when it mattered most?

What if she failed?

Not just herself… but the people who believed in her.

Especially Hinata.

She had been the main reason Sakura had gotten stronger. The one who reminded her, without ever saying it directly, that quiet persistence could change everything. Sakura had no doubt that Hinata would show everyone just how much she had improved—even if Hinata doubted herself. But Sakura wasn’t so sure about her own place in this.

The village around them buzzed with noise—merchants calling out, children laughing, people carrying bundles of flowers and food. Life was moving on as if nothing was changing.

But everything was.

Sakura tried to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Is something bothering you, Sakura?” Hinata asked gently. The concern in her voice was quiet but unmistakable.

Sakura hesitated, instinctively wanting to shrug it off.

But she didn’t.

“It’s just…” she exhaled loudly, “…it’s scary. The idea that in just two days, we’ll be part of something so important.”

She rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m worried that I’ll be the reason my team fails. Sasuke and Naruto have more experience. I don’t want to be the dead weight.”

Hinata was quiet for a moment before responding, her voice soft but certain.
“I get it, Sakura. I’m scared too. The stakes are high—for me, for my clan, for everything. But… what matters most is that we give it our best, right?”

She smiled then—bright and honest—and something in Sakura eased.

She wasn’t alone in this.

Sakura laughed softly. “You really do get me.”

Hinata beamed at that, just as she was about to ask if Sakura wanted to grab some sweets.

But then they saw him.

A young boy with red hair and a strange tattoo on his forehead. He was talking to Sasuke and Naruto, and whatever he said had clearly set Naruto off. The blonde was bristling with anger, while Sasuke looked… intrigued.

Sakura took a step forward on instinct.

But Hinata’s hand shot out, holding her back.

Before she could say anything, Sakura noticed two more figures standing nearby. They wore headbands from the Village Hidden in the Sand.

Enemy shinobi.

Her urge to run to her team flared—but Hinata’s grip didn’t loosen.

“Hinata, there’s tension. I need to go check on them—”

“If the situation escalates,” Hinata said, her voice suddenly colder, more composed, “we’re supposed to call a higher-ranking ninja. Not rush in. We’re still genin.”

Sakura stopped struggling.

She hated to admit it—but Hinata was right.

They waited.

Seconds passed like minutes before the Sand trio turned and walked away, leaving Naruto and Sasuke to head off in the opposite direction.

Sakura didn’t hesitate.

She ran.

“H-Hey! Sasuke! Naruto!” she called, panting as she caught up. Hinata was right behind her.

“What happened? Who were those people?”

Naruto frowned, arms crossed. “Genin from another village. They’re here for the Chūnin Exams.”

Sasuke glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “The redhead said he’d heard about me. Said he wanted to fight.” His lips twitched in smug satisfaction. “Didn’t even acknowledge Naruto.”

“HEY! I’m not invisible!” Naruto snapped, loud enough to draw a few stares. “Just wait! I’ll show him who I am when I crush him in the Exams!”

Sakura stepped between them, face flushed with irritation.

“Cut it out, both of you,” she snapped. “Do you realize how dangerous that interaction could’ve been? You don’t know their abilities. You don’t know their limits. And provoking enemy ninja two days before the Exams could’ve caused a political incident.”

She buried her face in her hands.

“You two are impossible.”

“But Sakura-chan,” Naruto whined, “I totally could’ve handled them!”

“No, you wouldn’t have. You would’ve just gotten hurt.”

“Yeah,” Sasuke added dryly, “you definitely would’ve gotten hurt.”

Sakura opened her mouth to continue the rant, but Hinata beat her to it.

“It wouldn’t have been just Naruto,” she said evenly. “All three of those shinobi were skilled enough to be sent to another village and enter the Chūnin Exams. You don’t know what their abilities are. And you could’ve gotten hurt.”

She paused, her tone colder than usual.
“And that could’ve created problems for the entire village.”

Sakura nodded. “Exactly. So next time, try using your heads.”

And with that, she grabbed Hinata’s wrist and dragged her away.

Chapter Text

As Sakura dragged Hinata away, she came to a stop and took a deep breath, letting her shoulders rise and fall.

She needed to calm down.

She knew her teammates could be reckless—Naruto more than Sasuke—but still, they drove her past the point of reason.

“Damn it… those idiots,” she muttered. “They just have to cause trouble wherever they go.”

She dropped her head, eyes landing on the dirt caked on her sandals. Her voice lowered, bitter and tired. “They’re definitely going to get us into trouble during the exams.”

There was a long pause before she spoke again, quieter this time.

“You know, Hinata… back when I found out I’d be on the same team as Sasuke, I nearly cried from happiness.” She laughed once—dry and humorless. “Now I wish I wasn’t stuck with two walking disasters.”

She heard a chuckle.

At first, she thought it was Hinata laughing at her misery.

But then came a familiar, grating voice.

“Oh? If you can’t handle being on Sasuke-kun’s team, maybe we should switch places. I’m sure I’d be a better fit anyway.”

Ino.

Sakura felt her stomach twist.

Ino stepped forward with a confident smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“You’re useless, and Naruto isn’t much better. I bet I’d lift some of the burden off Sasuke’s shoulders.”

Sakura could’ve gagged. She couldn’t believe it—just weeks ago, she probably would’ve said the same thing.

Shivers ran down her spine at the thought of her old self.

“Um… Ino-san,” Hinata said softly, her voice steady. “You do know that what you said is rude?”

Ino blinked.

For a second, Sakura could see the confusion in her eyes. She wasn’t used to this version of Hinata—the direct one. The one Sakura had gotten to know.

But the confusion passed, and Ino’s gaze sharpened.

“Aren’t you ashamed, Sakura?” she said. “First, you try to steal Sasuke from me, and now you’re filling her head with nonsense too? The last thing she needs is some big-forehead girl making her life harder.”

Sakura stood frozen.

She wasn’t angry.

She wasn’t even hurt.

Just… confused.

Because there was something off in Ino’s voice. Something that sounded more like jealousy than malice. That same tight, uncertain tone she used when she found out Sakura had been placed on Sasuke’s team.

She knew her well enough to recognize that look in her eyes.

But before Sakura could say anything, Hinata stepped forward.

“Why are you trying to hurt her feelings, Ino?” Her voice trembled slightly, but her words were clear. “You two used to be such good friends. I always envied that.”

Sakura turned to look at her, heart suddenly tight in her chest.

“I wish I could’ve been as open as the two of you,” Hinata continued, her gaze soft. “But because of some rivalry over Sasuke, you both threw away something precious.”

Sakura’s lips parted, but no words came out. She didn’t know what to say—not yet.

But Hinata wasn’t done.

“When we were younger, I wanted to be close to you both. You always seemed like you were having so much fun… but I never had the courage to join in. And now… seeing the way you treat each other… it just makes me sad.”

She looked between the two of them.

“So please… don’t say things like that again.”

Out of all the people Ino expected to put her in her place, Hinata wasn’t one of them.

She stared, stunned.

Hinata, who could barely get through a sentence without stuttering just a year ago, had just spoken with clarity, calmness, and confidence—no hesitation in her voice at all.

Before Ino could say anything back, Sakura started laughing.

And not just a small chuckle—she laughed so hard she nearly doubled over, gasping for air. For a moment, Ino genuinely wondered if Sakura had finally gone insane. Honestly, given her dramatic tendencies, it wouldn’t have been that surprising.

But eventually, Sakura caught her breath, wiping a tear from her eye as she grinned.

“So you are jealous of our friendship, huh?” she teased, smirking as she threw her arm around Hinata’s shoulder.

Her tone lit a fire in Ino.

It wasn’t just teasing—it felt like Sakura was mocking her, like she was looking down on her for something she didn’t want to admit: that yes, she did miss their friendship. That yes, she had watched their closeness from a distance and felt something ache inside.

Sakura had been her best friend once. And she missed that.

But she couldn’t let Sakura win this. Not that easily.

Before she could snap back, though, Sakura ran up and hugged her tightly.

“I missed being friends with you,” she said, her voice soft and warm. “You know my offer still stands… if you want to be friends again.”

Ino froze.

Her expression didn’t change, but the words hit something raw. She tried to keep her voice steady.

“Don’t make me laugh,” she scoffed. “Me and you, friends? That’s never happening. Just because I’m jealous of your perfect little bond with Hinata doesn’t mean I’m some stray cat begging for scraps.”

“No one thinks that, Ino,” Hinata said gently. “You and Sakura can still have your rivalry. But that doesn’t mean you have to throw everything else away.”

“She’s right,” Sakura added. “We can still compete. But we can also care about each other. That’s what real rivals do… I mean, only if you want to.”

Ino didn’t know what to say.

But when she felt a single tear roll down her cheek, she made her choice.

“…Being friends with you was kinda nice, Forehead,” she muttered, shooting Sakura a confident grin.

Sakura’s smile widened. “Same goes for you, Ino-pig.”

She pulled her into another hug—and this time, Ino hugged her back.

From the corner of her eye, Ino spotted Hinata quietly stepping away.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Sakura called after her. “You just admitted you wanted to be our friend—and now you’re leaving us?”

Ino let out a short laugh. “Yeah, she’s right. Even if we made up, we still need someone to keep us balanced.”

“So?” Sakura raised an eyebrow. “Sweets?”

Hinata blinked, then her whole face lit up like a child in a candy store. “Yes. I’d be delighted.”

“Whoever gets there last is a loser!” Sakura shouted, already sprinting ahead.

Ino didn’t hesitate.

She ran after them, laughing as the wind rushed past her. For the first time in a long time, she wasn’t thinking about Sasuke. She wasn’t trying to prove anything.

She was just… having fun.

After a fun afternoon with Sakura and Ino, Hinata was beaming.

She still couldn’t quite believe it.

Not long ago, she had no one outside her team. And now—she had not one, but two friends. Real ones.

Right now, Sakura and Ino were back at it again—bantering nonstop as they strolled together through the streets. They hadn’t stopped bickering the entire afternoon, but this time it wasn’t sharp. There was no malice, no bitterness. It was playful. Familiar.

Like it used to be, but better.

“No, I make better dangos than you!” Ino huffed as they neared her house. “When I let you try them, you literally said they were the best in the whole village!”

“That was years ago, Ino-pig! And I’ve been practicing since then,” Sakura said proudly. “Right, Hinata?”

Both girls turned to her, waiting for an answer.

Hinata blinked. “But… I haven’t tried either of your cooking.”

Sakura’s eyes widened. “Wait—you’re right. I asked without even giving you any first!”

Ino smirked. “Dummy. Asking for an opinion when she hasn’t tasted either? Really?”

“You were looking at her for an answer too!” Sakura yelled, pointing accusingly.

They all laughed.

The sky was beginning to fade into soft pinks and oranges, the warm end of a peaceful day. Then Ino slowed her steps.

“Anyway, I gotta go,” she said, adjusting the strap of her bag. “I have a strategy meeting with Asuma-sensei tomorrow for the exams.”

She looked away for a second, then back at them with a more serious expression.

“But just so you know… if I have to fight either of you during the Chūnin Exams, I won’t be holding back.”

Sakura grinned. “Don’t worry. Even if you go all out, I’ll still win.”

Hinata smiled gently, but her voice was firm. “I won’t hold back either.”

Ino smirked at both of them. “See ya!”

And just like that, she ran off into her house, waving as she disappeared through the door.

Sakura and Hinata continued walking in comfortable silence, the streets quieter now as evening settled in.

“So… the exams are in two days, huh?” Sakura murmured.

“Yeah,” Hinata said with a small sigh. “Time passed faster than I expected. And here I thought I had so much more time to prepare…”

“Hinata,” Sakura said, giving her a sideways look, “how many times do I have to tell you to believe in yourself?”

“You’re right.” Hinata nodded, her expression growing more determined. “Now’s not the time to mope. If Aria found out I was still doubting myself… she’d probably make me suffer through five hours of nonstop training.”

Sakura laughed. “Yeah, and don’t forget—we have a morning meeting with the senseis, and then we’re visiting Aria so she can… ‘encourage’ us.”

Hinata winced. “That sounded suspicious.”

“That’s because it is,” Sakura said with a grin.

They kept walking, their conversation drifting into jokes about Aria’s most intense training moments, and before long they reached Sakura’s house.

Sakura turned to face her with a bright smile. “See you tomorrow, Hinata. And… thank you. For helping with Ino. You’re the reason she changed her mind, you know.”

Hinata shook her head. “There’s no need to thank me, Sakura. Just knowing I have people beside me… that’s more than enough.”

Sakura’s smile softened. “Still—thank you.”

“Goodnight, Sakura.”

“Goodnight, Hinata.”

And with that, Hinata turned and headed toward the Hyūga compound, the soft evening light casting long shadows behind her—but her heart felt light, steady, and ready for what came next.

Chapter Text

The sky was painted in soft shades of dawn as Hinata and Sakura made their way to the meeting point, each walking in silence but with purpose.

The clearing near the old training field was already occupied.

Team 7 stood beneath a tree—Sasuke, calm and unreadable as ever; Naruto, bouncing on his heels with restless energy. Sakura gave them a short wave as she joined them, and though Naruto greeted her loudly, she noticed Sasuke only nodded, arms crossed, but watching her quietly.

A short distance away, Team 8 gathered beneath a tall cedar. Kiba leaned against the trunk, tossing a small stone in the air as Shino quietly spoke about strategy. Hinata approached, greeted with a nod from both teammates.

The air was quiet—not tense, just still. Like the village was holding its breath.

After a few minutes, the silence was broken.

Kiba gave a toothy grin. “Can’t believe it’s already here, huh? The exams.”

“Statistically,” Shino added, “many fail on the first day. It’s meant to shake your nerves.”

Kiba groaned. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

Hinata smiled softly, grateful for the way her teammates always balanced each other.

On the other side, Naruto was already getting worked up. “I’ve been training non-stop! There’s no way I’m failing. I’m gonna crush everyone!”

Sasuke didn’t even glance at him. “Tch. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Sakura stood between them, arms folded. “Both of you—don’t start.”

She looked over to where Hinata stood with her team and gave a small nod. Hinata returned it, quietly proud that the person nodding back wasn’t the same girl who once walked with her eyes downcast.

There weren’t any grand speeches. No one needed them.

The teams would each go their own way soon enough.

But for a brief moment, they stood together—as comrades, as rivals, and as shinobi on the edge of something bigger than any of them truly understood.

The teams had parted ways, each disappearing into their own corners of the village.

But Kurenai and Kakashi remained.

Sakura and Hinata stood together just beyond the meeting point, waiting as their senseis approached. The morning air was cool, but not cold. The kind of weather that made it hard to tell whether to brace for comfort or a storm.

Kakashi’s usual laid-back demeanor was toned down. His book wasn’t in sight.

“You both look ready,” he said.

“More ready than I expected,” Kurenai added with a small smile. “You’ve grown quickly.”

Hinata gave a short bow. “Thank you, Kurenai-sensei.”

Sakura just nodded, her fingers brushing the edge of her sleeves.

Kakashi tilted his head toward her. “Nervous?”

“A little,” she admitted. “But… not like before.”

He raised an eyebrow beneath his mask. “That’s a good sign.”

Kurenai stepped forward, placing a hand gently on Hinata’s shoulder. “Whatever happens in that exam room, remember this—your strength doesn’t come from your name. It comes from what you choose to protect.”

Hinata’s expression flickered—just for a second—but then she nodded.

“I’ll remember.”

Kakashi looked between the two of them, hands in his pockets. “You don’t need any last-minute advice. You’ve already trained with someone who makes me look lazy.”

Sakura smirked slightly. “Aria-sensei?”

“She’s intense,” Kakashi said flatly. “Which is good. And terrifying. But good.”

“We’ll be heading to her place next,” Hinata said softly.

Kurenai exchanged a glance with Kakashi, then looked at the girls.

“She won’t say it, but she’s proud of you both.”

Sakura blinked. “Really?”

Kakashi shrugged. “If she will smile  once. That’s practically a standing ovation.”

Both girls laughed—just a little.

And then Kurenai took a breath. “Tomorrow begins something that will test not just your skill, but your character. Be ready. Not perfect—just ready.”

The girls nodded. There was nothing else to say.

They turned to leave.

But as they did, Kakashi added one last thing.

“Oh—and don’t forget to breathe. That’s surprisingly important.”

The clearing around Aria’s home was quiet, the trees swaying gently in the early morning breeze. The sun was just beginning to rise fully, casting a soft, silvery light across the open grass. It felt sacred somehow. Not dramatic—but still important.

Hinata and Sakura approached silently. Neither of them spoke. They didn’t need to.

Aria stood in the center of the clearing as always, calm and still, arms folded behind her back. She wore no expression on her face—just the usual cool stillness that made it hard to tell what she was thinking.

“You’re here,” she said. Her voice was quiet but steady. “Good.”

The girls bowed slightly, out of habit more than anything.

“You’ve both worked hard,” she continued. “Harder than most. And now, everything comes down to how you choose to carry what you’ve gained.”

She walked slowly to the flat stone in the center of the clearing, where two small bundles sat neatly wrapped in black cloth. She picked them up without flourish, then turned to face them again.

“I don’t believe in giving gifts,” she said. “They are too often used as excuses for sentiment. Or worse, as symbols of possession.”

She held the bundles out, one in each hand.

“But these aren’t gifts. They’re reminders.”

Hinata accepted hers first. She opened the cloth slowly and found a pair of delicate silver earrings, shaped like crescent moons. The metal was light and cool in her palm. Understated, but beautiful.

Sakura unwrapped hers—a thin black necklace, simple cord with a small carved stone pendant. The stone was etched with the faint outline of a blooming flower. It wasn’t perfect—its edges were rough, unpolished.

But that was what made it feel real.

“These aren’t infused with chakra,” Aria said. “They’re not protective talismans. They won’t save you in a fight.”

Her voice softened—not in tone, but in weight.

“They’re for remembering. Who you are. Why you’re walking forward. And what you’ve left behind.”

Hinata looked down at the earrings. Her hands trembled slightly—not from fear, but something heavier.

Aria stepped forward. She faced Hinata first.

“You are the girl who was told to stay quiet. To stay small. To obey. And you listened—for too long. But not anymore.”

She lifted her hand and gently touched Hinata’s shoulder.

“You chose a different path. You chose to change things, even if it means burning bridges with the people you were born to serve. That takes more courage than most shinobi will ever understand.”

Hinata’s eyes burned, but she didn’t cry. She nodded, slowly.

Then Aria turned to Sakura.

“You were taught to believe your strength was in your image. That your value was in who noticed you. You spent years trying to be seen by people who never really looked at you.”

Sakura’s eyes dropped to the pendant, her fingers curled tightly around it.

“But now…” Aria continued, “you’ve stopped asking to be seen. And you’ve started seeing yourself.”

She met Sakura’s eyes.

“That’s what makes you dangerous.”

There was silence for a moment. The trees rustled overhead. The world kept turning, but in that small clearing, time felt suspended.

“No more instructions,” Aria said. “No more training. What you carry now is yours. Your instincts. Your judgment. Your will.”

She took a step back, folding her hands behind her again.

“When you enter that exam room tomorrow, there will be no one guiding you. No one to step in.”

Her gaze sharpened. Thin smile appeared on her face.

“And you don’t need them.”

Sakura and Hinata stood taller.

“Now go,” she said. “Rest. Breathe. And when the time comes…”

She gave them a final nod.

“Prove to yourselves what I already know.”

She stood just outside the compound walls, her back to the estate that had raised her and tried to define her. The air was crisp, cool against her cheeks, and the silver earrings in her hands glinted faintly in the moonlight.

She hadn't put them on yet.

Not because she didn’t want to—but because she wanted the moment to feel real. Intentional. Like a promise she was making to herself.

She looked up at the stars, her thoughts quiet but full.

So much of her life had been spent in silence. Not the peaceful kind—the forced kind. The kind that came from knowing your words would change nothing.

She had bowed too often. Apologized too quickly. Doubted herself for far too long.

But she wasn’t that girl anymore.

Not because she had become someone else—but because she had chosen to fight for the girl she had once abandoned. The one who dreamed of more. The one who watched Neji train and wondered if she’d ever be able to stand her ground.

She still didn’t know if the clan would ever accept her.

But for the first time, she didn’t need them to.

She raised the earrings, hands steady now, and slowly slid them into place.

A sharp chill touched her ears.

She smiled softly.

“I am not my weakness.”

She sat on the edge of her bed, the necklace from Aria resting lightly in her palm. The carved stone wasn’t perfect—its petals were uneven, rough around the edges—but it felt real. Honest. The kind of thing no one would glance at twice.

She liked that about it.

The room was quiet, lit only by the moonlight seeping through her open window. But her thoughts kept moving.

For a long time, all she’d wanted was to be seen. Not truly understood—just noticed. Especially by him.

Sasuke.

She had spent so much time trying to catch his attention—fixing her hair, rehearsing what to say, pretending to be someone more graceful, more composed.

Looking back now, she felt a strange kind of embarrassment. Not shame—just a quiet ache for the girl she’d been.

A girl who measured her worth in how close she stood to someone like Sasuke. Who believed that being on his team meant she was special. That she was enough.

But she knew better now.

Their team had only been together a few months. And in that short time, she’d learned that admiration was not the same thing as connection. That chasing someone’s approval was not the same as growing beside them.

And her strength?

It wasn’t born from impressing anyone.

It came from the moments she’d been knocked down. The nights she’d cried. The mornings she got up anyway.

From Kakashi’s quiet tests.

From Kurenai’s calm patience.

From Aria’s brutal honesty.

And most of all—

from Hinata’s quiet courage.

She placed the pendant around her neck and tied it tight. It felt light—but grounding.

Sakura walked to the window, letting the night air brush across her face.

The moon hung high, casting silver over the rooftops. Konoha slept peacefully beneath it.

She smiled faintly.

“I don’t need to be noticed anymore,” she whispered.

“Tomorrow… I fight for myself.”

Chapter Text

If it were any other day, Naruto would’ve overslept—but not today. Today was the first day of the Chūnin Exams. He had gotten up early, determined, though he’d be lying if he said he had a good night’s sleep.

Of course, it wasn’t because he was worried about the exams.

…But it was because of the exams.

This was his first real step toward becoming Hokage. He had to pass.

As he stepped outside his home, the usual scowls and sharp stares from villagers followed him. He was used to it by now, but it never stopped hurting. Their eyes didn’t just glance; they clung, filled with fear, distrust, and bitterness. But Naruto kept walking. He always did.

He was nearing the Ninja Academy now, trying to keep up his usual carefree grin. But he knew—some of what he was feeling was probably written all over his face.

When he reached the gates, his eyes widened. There were so many unfamiliar shinobi. For a brief second, his body tensed. Were they being attacked?

Then he remembered: the Chūnin Exams weren’t just for Konoha shinobi. Genin from other villages would be competing too.

Still... he didn’t want to be alone in this moment.

He looked around, searching for a familiar face. No sign of Sakura or Sasuke.

But then—there. A face he recognized: Hyūga Hinata.

She was a bit weird, but kind. Always had been, ever since the Academy. She looked like she was searching for someone too—probably her teammates.

Not wanting to stand there alone with all the unfamiliar chakra buzzing in the air, he walked toward her.

“Hey, Hinata! What’s up? You looking for your teammates too?”

Hinata turned to him, blinking in surprise. “Oh, Naruto-san—good morning. It’s nice to see a familiar face when there are so many new people in the village for the exams.”

“You don’t say,” Naruto grinned. “I thought we were under attack at first, before I remembered this was an exam for everyone.”

Hinata chuckled softly. That surprised him. For years, every time he talked to her, she’d blush and stutter—or run away entirely. He used to think she didn’t like him.

But recently... she’d changed. She didn’t stammer anymore. She didn’t run.

And honestly? He liked that. He didn’t want people to be afraid of him.

“Yeah, I almost forgot the exam was today myself,” Hinata said with a gentle smile.

Naruto froze for a second. That smile… that was the first time anyone had smiled at him like that. Warm. Real. It caught him off guard.

He didn’t have time to respond—Sasuke and Sakura had just arrived.

Sasuke had that same smug look on his face, the one that basically said, I’m better than all of you.

But even if he was a jerk, Naruto admitted to himself—he was still their teammate.

Sakura on the other hand looked annoyed. “Naruto, are you bothering Hinata before the exams?”

Before Naruto could defend himself, Hinata quickly stepped in. “He’s not, Sakura. Actually, I’m glad he talked to me… I feel more relaxed now than I did before.”

Sakura blinked, then softened. “Okay… if you say so, Hinata. If you’re looking for Kiba and Shino, they’re near the main entrance waiting for you.”

“Oh really? Thank you, Sakura. Good luck in the exams,” Hinata said with a respectful nod.

“And good luck to you too, Naruto.” She gave him one last smile. “I’m sure you’ll pass.”

Naruto stood stunned for a moment, something strange stirring in his chest.

But Sakura’s voice pulled him back to reality.

“Good luck to you too, Hinata!” she called after her, her expression suddenly worried.

“Yes—good luck, Hinata!” Naruto added.

Sasuke grunted, clearly impatient. “Now that you’re done chatting, can we register? Or are you planning to be the last ones in line?”

With that, the team moved toward the academy entrance. Naruto walked with them, but his thoughts lingered.

He glanced back once at Hinata, now walking away.

“She definitely changed,” he whispered.

And then he stepped into the academy.

The moment they stepped into the building, they were met with even more unfamiliar faces. Some of them gave off dangerous chakra—Naruto could feel it, even if he couldn’t quite understand it. His skin itched. This wasn’t going to be easy.

A voice called out from the crowd—friendly, a little too friendly.

“Hey, you guys. First-timers too?”

They turned to see a silver-haired genin with glasses, a calm and pleasant expression on his face.

“I’m Kabuto Yakushi,” he said, offering a casual wave. “You don’t have to be so tense. It’s not like the exam will kill you… well, probably not.”

Naruto narrowed his eyes. Something about the guy felt off. Too easygoing, too relaxed. Sakura seemed curious, though.

“You’ve taken the exam before?”

Kabuto smiled. “Oh yeah. This is my seventh time. I know, sounds ridiculous, right?” He scratched the back of his head and chuckled. “I just can’t seem to pass the second round. But hey—knowledge is power. Want some info on the other teams?”

He pulled out a stack of cards from his pocket.

Sasuke stepped forward. “Got anything on Gaara of the Sand?”

Kabuto’s eyes gleamed behind his glasses. “Interesting choice.”

As Kabuto listed off facts, Naruto’s attention drifted. He didn’t care about stats or history. He just wanted to prove himself—through action, not information. And besides, Kabuto still rubbed him the wrong way.

Eventually, the doors to the exam room opened. It was time.

Hinata took a seat near the middle, her teammates not far from her. She held her back straight, hands folded neatly on the desk in front of her. Her eyes scanned the room with calm precision. While the sheer number of competitors could easily overwhelm someone, she had been trained for moments like this.

Her breathing was steady. She didn’t expect the exam to be easy, but she also wasn’t afraid.

You are a Hyūga, she reminded herself. You’ve trained, studied, prepared. This is not beyond you.

When the rules were explained, many looked uneasy. The idea of losing points for being caught cheating clearly rattled a lot of genin. But Hinata knew her limits and her strengths. While the exam was clearly designed to test more than just intelligence, she had a plan: she would answer as much as she could on her own and only use her Byakugan if absolutely necessary.

As she began reading the questions, she frowned slightly. These weren’t typical academy questions. No, these were advanced, the kind meant to make even well-trained shinobi sweat.

But she recognized many of the subjects—tactical theory, enemy movement prediction, historical operations. She had studied all of this, drilled into her by tutors from the main house. Her pen moved steadily as she worked through each question.

She noticed others around her fidgeting, glancing, shifting. Cheating. She could even sense faint chakra pulses from some—sensory techniques. She didn’t need any of it. Not yet.

Only when she reached the ninth question, which involved deciphering a coded enemy formation shift, did she pause. That one was beyond her. Silently, discreetly, she activated the Byakugan for a split second—enough to glance around the room and find someone who had confidently filled it in. One glimpse. No longer. Then her eyes returned to normal, her expression unreadable.

That will be the only time, she told herself. You can do this on your own.

Sakura was all nerves the moment she sat down, but she quickly pulled herself together. She had studied hard for years—top of the class in written exams. This was where she could shine.

As Ibiki explained the rules, Sakura’s brow furrowed. This wasn’t just about knowledge. It was about strategy, nerves, and deception.

Cheating without being caught? she thought. That’s how they’re testing information-gathering.

She chewed the end of her pen for half a second before snapping out of it. No matter. She didn’t need to cheat.

The questions were hard—harder than any she’d seen at the academy—but not impossible. She took a deep breath and focused, blocking out the sounds around her. She was glad that Naruto was nearby. Even if he struggled, she didn’t want him to feel alone.

Her pen scratched against paper. She answered one question, then the next. There were a few that made her pause, but she had confidence in her memory. She’d always had to prove herself with her mind. This was her battlefield.

Still, the tension in the room built. Some kids were sweating. Others were already trying to peek. Her eyes briefly flicked to Naruto—he was gripping his pencil like it was a weapon.

This was hell.

He glared at the paper like it had personally insulted him.

The second he looked at the first question, Naruto’s brain stopped working. What even was this? Was this ninja stuff? It looked like math. Really scary, war-themed math.

He glanced around nervously. Everyone was writing. Confident. Calm. Even Hinata. Even Hinata! He didn’t want to look stupid, but—he was stupid. At least when it came to this.

His knee bounced under the desk. He couldn’t cheat. Not because of some moral code—but because he had no idea how to cheat. He was never good at subtle things. And if he got caught, he’d lose points. He didn’t have any to lose!

Come on, he told himself. You’re gonna be Hokage! You have to find a way!

So he sat there and stared. Waited. Listened. Maybe... someone would whisper? Drop a hint? Nothing. He tried to scribble something down. Total nonsense.

He hated this. He hated tests. But he wasn’t going to give up. Not when he had come this far.

When the proctor slammed his hand on the desk and announced the tenth question, Sasuke didn’t flinch.

The room had gone still.

Ibiki’s words echoed like a blade drawn slow. Stay and risk it all… or walk away and never return.

Sasuke leaned back slightly in his chair, his arms folded, eyes narrowed beneath his long lashes. His expression didn't shift—blank, unreadable—but inside, there was a burning coldness, a fire that devoured hesitation.

A weak ninja would be frightened right now. Crying. Considering escape.

But fear was a luxury Sasuke had abandoned long ago.

The sound of chairs scraping back reached him—teams forfeiting, giving up. He didn’t look their way. He had no time for cowards.

“I don’t care what the question is,” he thought coldly. Whatever game this is—it’s not enough to shake me.

His thoughts sharpened like a blade drawn from its sheath.

This exam, this village, this world… it means nothing unless I get what I came for.

He’d been patient. Too patient. But beneath the silence of his face was a storm, coiled and hungry. The only thing that kept it in check was the promise of vengeance. And that promise started with getting stronger—strong enough to kill Itachi.

He was a Uchiha. The last one that mattered.

And if this was some cheap psychological trap, meant to scare off the weak... then Sasuke would watch them fall, one by one, and step over their broken dreams.

His gaze flicked briefly to Naruto—not out of concern, but calculation.

Let’s see if the loudmouth cracks.

    Naruto’s fingers were clenched tight around his pencil, his eyes darting between the proctor and the genin around him. His paper was mostly blank, his brain half-melted from pretending not to panic during the last nine questions.

And now this?

“This is the tenth question,” Ibiki growled, pacing with the slow rhythm of a predator. “If you choose to stay and get it wrong, you’ll be barred from ever taking the Chūnin Exams again.”

Naruto’s heart skipped a beat.

What kind of question is that?! Never take the exam again?!

He didn’t know if he was shaking because of fear or rage. Probably both.

This was his dream—his very first real step toward becoming Hokage. Toward being seen. Respected. Acknowledged. He couldn’t throw that away. He wouldn’t.

But...

His mind betrayed him. For a split second, he saw himself failing. People laughing. The looks of the villagers—worse than ever.

He gritted his teeth.

No! Don’t think like that, Naruto!

He couldn’t back down. Not now.

He didn’t have the answers. He wasn’t smart like Sakura. He didn’t have the Byakugan like Hinata or the cool calm of Sasuke. But he had something else. Something that burned brighter than the fear.

He slammed his hands on the table and stood up.

“I’m not going anywhere!” he shouted, voice raw and fierce. “I don’t care what the question is. Even if I stay a genin forever—I’m not gonna run!”

The room froze.

Ibiki’s scarred face turned to him, unreadable. Naruto didn’t care. Let them all stare.

He would fight. Fail. Fall.

But never run.

A stillness hung in the air. Naruto’s voice echoed long after he’d shouted, leaving behind an unnatural quiet.

Ibiki’s face remained unreadable, but the silence was almost... approving.

And then—

CRASH.

Glass shattered.

A round object burst through the window—thunking against the floor before erupting in a cloud of smoke and paper. Every genin in the room flinched, eyes darting as kunai were half-drawn, some even on their feet before the smoke had cleared.

“Alright you maggots!” a sharp female voice snapped. “Time’s up!”

The smoke cleared to reveal a figure standing in the broken window frame, one hand on her hip, the other holding a dango stick casually between her fingers. The long trench coat fluttered behind her like a cape, mesh armor visible beneath, and a wild, toothy grin tugged at her lips.

Eyes like sharpened amber scanned the room, dancing from genin to genin, not at all phased by the tension left behind by Ibiki’s mind games.

“I’m your next proctor—Mitarashi Anko!” she announced with a theatrical flourish, leaping down from the window sill and landing with a dramatic thud. “And it looks like I’ve got a lively bunch this year…”

She trailed off, her grin turning crooked as she caught sight of Ibiki and the room full of startled genin. Her eye twitched.

“…or what’s left of them.”

Ibiki didn’t even flinch. “You’re early.”

Anko clicked her tongue and tossed her dango stick aside. “Tch. You’re just slow.”

Several of the remaining genin exchanged uneasy glances. The pressure Ibiki had exuded was heavy, like sinking into a void. But this new woman—it was different. Chaotic. Dangerous. Wild. She smiled too much, moved too fast, and looked like she enjoyed the idea of blood.

Sakura swallowed hard.

Hinata tensed.

Even Sasuke’s gaze narrowed. This woman was dangerous, in a very different way.

But Naruto... he blinked at her. “Uh… what the hell just happened?”

Anko cracked her knuckles, delight flashing in her eyes.

“Congratulations on surviving,” she chirped brightly. “But don’t get too comfortable. The second test’s about to start, and let’s just say… I hope you like pain.”

She turned on her heel and began striding toward the door, coat flaring behind her. “Follow me, brats! We’re headed to the Forest of Death!”

A few teams hesitated.

Anko paused, casting a glance over her shoulder with a grin that promised nothing good. “Oh… and don’t forget to sign the consent forms. I’m not responsible for any... mysterious disappearances.”

With that, she was gone—laughing to herself as she vanished down the corridor.

The room didn’t breathe again until she was well out of sight.

Chapter Text

The ground crunched beneath Naruto’s sandals as he walked alongside the other Genin, the forest looming in the distance like a wall of shadows. Tall trees stretched upward, thick and silent, swallowing the afternoon light. The Forest of Death. Just the name alone was enough to make his stomach twist—but he didn’t slow down.

They had passed. The thought hadn’t stopped replaying in his head since they left the exam room.

We passed. I passed.

He still felt the adrenaline in his chest. The kind that made your fingers twitch and your breathing a little shallow, but your feet keep moving forward anyway.

At first, he’d just been happy—grinning like an idiot when Ibiki told them they were through to the next stage. But as the crowd thinned out and the walk grew quieter, that smile started to fade into something more thoughtful. There hadn’t been any real trick to passing. No right answers, no brilliant deduction. Just guts. Guts and resolve. He hadn’t quit. He hadn’t let the fear stop him.

He exhaled slowly, watching the path ahead, muscles still coiled from the pressure.

That last question… it really got to me.

They made it sound so final. Like one wrong choice, one bad moment, would brand him a failure forever. And he believed them. Everyone else probably did too. But even when his hands were sweating, even when his stomach knotted up like it always did before something big—he still shouted that he wasn’t going to quit. That he was never going to back down.

That was the truth.

Even if he had no plan. No answers.

He didn’t quit.

“That’s gotta mean something, right?” he thought, glancing around at the other Genin. Some looked confident. Some scared. A few were whispering, eyes narrowed as they sized up their competition.

He saw Sasuke up ahead, walking with that same controlled pace, like he was always three steps ahead of everyone else. Sakura walked just behind him, glancing nervously between the trees and her teammates. Naruto didn’t say anything. Not yet.

He still felt a little raw.

That test reminded him of more than just being out of his depth. It reminded him of the village—the way people used to look at him. Like he was a lost cause. Invisible until he messed up, then suddenly everyone was watching.

But something was different now.

He looked down at his clenched fists, then up again, toward the trees they were about to disappear into.

Maybe he didn’t ace the written exam. Maybe he still had no clue what kind of hell was waiting for them inside that forest. But he was here. Moving forward. Step by step.

“I'm not going to lose here. Not when I’ve come this far. Not when I’ve finally started proving I belong.”

He smirked, pushing his hands into his pockets, feeling the leaf-patterned headband shift slightly with the motion.

Let the Forest of Death come. Whatever’s in there, I’ll face it head-on. Just like I always do.

And with that, Uzumaki Naruto kept walking.

As the last of the Genin gathered in front of the looming iron gates, the dense canopy of the Forest of Death cast deep shadows across the clearing. The air was thick with tension, whispers dying quickly among the crowd as everyone instinctively drew a little closer to their teammates. The silence didn’t last long.

A sharp whirring sound—then a sudden thunk.

A kunai embedded itself into the wood of the post next to a startled Genin's head. Before anyone could react, she was there.

Leaning casually against the fence, grinning like a predator.

“Alright, brats,” Anko Mitarashi said, her voice slick with amusement and edge. “Let’s get one thing clear.”

She stepped forward, long trench coat swaying behind her like a shadow, and the smirk on her face only grew sharper when several Genin visibly flinched.

“This is where the real fun begins.”

She gestured dramatically toward the gate.

“Welcome to the Stage Two of the Chūnin Exams—The Forest of Death.”

A few mutters rippled through the crowd, but no one dared speak up.

“It’s a survival test,” she went on, eyes gleaming. “Your mission: make it through five days inside this hellhole. Alive.”

She started pacing slowly in front of the line of Genin, pausing every so often to make unnerving eye contact. “You’ll be handed a scroll. One of two types—either Heaven or Earth. The goal is to collect both and reach the tower at the center of the forest.”

She grinned wider, flashing teeth. “Simple, right?”

A beat passed before she added with a sweet, mocking lilt, “Oh, but I forgot to mention—there are only a limited number of scrolls, and no duplicates allowed. Which means… you’ll have to take them from each other.”

The shift in the crowd was immediate. Tension sparked and thickened. Eyes darted sideways. The rules were clear—this wasn’t just survival. This was war.

“If you lose your scroll,” Anko added with a tilt of her head, “you’re out. If you lose a teammate… too bad. You’re still out.”

She stopped walking, turning to face the gate. Her voice dropped, quieter but colder.

“There are no second chances in there. The forest doesn’t forgive the weak. There are traps, creatures, terrain that’ll chew you up. And that’s not counting the other teams waiting to slit your throat the moment your back is turned.”

Several Genin swallowed hard. Anko licked her lips, clearly enjoying the effect.

“This is the place where you prove you’re ready to be a Chūnin. And that means fighting, tricking, hiding, bleeding. Maybe even killing.”

She threw a glance back over her shoulder, eyes flicking across the faces.

“Still feeling confident, kiddos?”

No one answered. Even Naruto, who had been practically vibrating with anticipation minutes earlier, had fallen quiet. His fists were clenched again—but not from fear. From determination.

Anko’s grin returned, razor-sharp and full of glee.

“Good,” she said brightly, and clapped her hands once. “Now let’s get to the fun part—signing these consent forms.”

She held up a thick stack of papers. “You’ll each need to agree, in writing, that we’re not responsible for anything that happens to you in there. Death, dismemberment, mental breakdown—yada yada. You know, the usual.”

She turned, tossing the forms onto a nearby table with a loud thud.

“You’ve got ten minutes. Fill ‘em out and line up when you’re ready to meet your gate proctor. Once you go in, the clock starts ticking.”

And with that, she leaned against the fence again, watching them all with a gleam of anticipation in her eyes—as if she already knew which of them wouldn’t be coming back out.

Anko leaned back against a post, arms crossed as a breeze tugged lightly at her coat. The genin were scattered around the clearing now, heads bowed over clipboards as they scribbled down their names on the consent forms—some confidently, some with trembling hands.

She smirked. Cute.

They all thought they knew what they were signing up for. Most didn’t.

“Can’t be held responsible for any deaths,” she muttered under her breath, repeating her own words with amusement. She watched one of the Suna kids eye his form like it might bite. “They’ll learn quick.”

Her gaze swept the crowd. Kiba was whining about something, probably the lack of bathrooms in the forest. Sakura looked focused. Neji—cold as ever. Sasuke, brooding in a corner like he was auditioning to be king of the damned.

And Naruto… well, the brat was grinning. That one’s either going to die in the first twenty-four hours or cause a scene so ridiculous it breaks the rules.

But her amusement faded as her eyes returned to the Grass team. Three genin. But it was the one in the middle that made her skin crawl.

That stillness.

That chakra.

She pretended not to stare, but she was watching his every breath. The one in the middle had something… off about him. His team filled out their forms slowly, deliberately. Too deliberately. No nervous flick of the pen. No signs of adrenaline. Just… calm.

No genin was that calm.

She couldn’t shake the feeling. It wasn’t just a hunch—it was instinct, coiled and cold and loud in her spine. A chakra signature buried deep, but not unfamiliar.

I was trained to recognize monsters, she thought bitterly. Of course I’d smell one when he’s this close.

Her fingers itched toward her sleeve.

But she didn’t move yet. She couldn’t.

If it’s really him… Her jaw clenched. Then this forest isn’t a test. It’s bait. And I just threw a bunch of kids into the pit.

She’d have to be smart. Quiet. Ready.

And if she was right, she’d kill him herself—no hesitation.

“Tick-tock,” she muttered, watching as the last of the teams handed over their forms. “Let the games begin.”

“Alright, listen up, brats!”

Her voice sliced through the muttering like a kunai. Genin snapped to attention, a few still clutching their waivers like lifelines. Anko stood atop the gatepost, coat billowing in the rising wind, a grin stretched across her face like a blade.

“This is training ground forty-four, better known as the Forest of Death.” She paused dramatically. The name always got a reaction—some flinched, others smirked, pretending they weren’t nervous. She loved watching them try to hide it. "I will repeat the rules one last time , if anyone of you still wants to back up now is your chance"

“You'll be in there for five days,” she continued. “Your goal: get to the tower in the center of the forest. But to do that, you'll need two scrolls—one Heaven, one Earth.”

She held up a scroll in each hand for emphasis. “Each team starts with one. To pass, you’ll need both.”

The silence was sharp. Anko could hear the shifting of feet, the rustle of leaves, the distant, hungry screech of something inside the trees. It was perfect.

“You’re free to use whatever means necessary. Fight. Trick. Steal. I don’t care.” Her grin widened, eyes gleaming. “Oh, and one last thing—if you open the scroll before you reach the tower, your whole team is disqualified. And if one of your teammates die you will also be disqualified.”

A beat passed.

“Questions?” the silence was amusing 

"So non of you give up?" 

None. Just thinly veiled panic.

“Good.” She gestured toward the gatekeeper. “Release the barriers!”

Metal groaned. The massive gates creaked open. The forest inside seemed to breathe, dark and swaying, alive with menace. Genin teams began moving into position, some charging in, others holding back.

Anko kept her eyes on the Grass team.

There. The one in the middle didn’t even blink as the doors opened.

Definitely not a genin. Not even close.

Her hand twitched near her sleeve. But now wasn’t the time. She waited until the last team had disappeared into the trees, the gates slowly groaning shut behind them.

As soon as the last thud echoed through the clearing, her smirk vanished.

She turned on her heel.

“Send word,” she ordered the nearest proctor. “I’m going straight to the Hokage.”

The Hokage’s office was quiet—too quiet for what she had to say.

Anko pushed the door open without knocking. Her boots thudded against the wood floor, echoing off the walls. Hiruzen looked up from a pile of paperwork, but his eyes sharpened when he saw her expression.

“I take it something’s wrong,” he said calmly.

She didn’t waste time.

“One of the genin… no, one of the people posing as a genin. He’s not what he seems.” She crossed her arms, eyes narrowing. “A Grass shinobi. Black hair. Cold eyes. Not once did he flinch, blink, or breathe like a normal genin. It wasn’t fearlessness. It was complete disinterest.”

Hiruzen put down his pipe. “Go on.”

“I sensed his chakra. It was… wrong.” Anko shook her head slightly. “Not unfamiliar. But twisted. Heavy. Like it was coiled around something darker.”

The old man’s expression didn’t change, but his fingers tensed around the pipe stem. “You believe it's him, don’t you.”

“I don’t want to believe it,” she admitted. “But if it is Orochimaru… if he's infiltrated this exam… then he’s after something, and this is just the start.”

Silence hung between them like a storm cloud.

“Keep this quiet,” Hiruzen finally said. “For now. No one else is to know unless absolutely necessary.”

Anko scowled. “If it is him, you know what he’s capable of. We need more than silence.”

“And we will act,” he said, voice steel beneath calm. “But carefully. The last thing we need is panic or worse—driving him further underground.”

She didn’t like it. Her skin crawled with the memory of that chakra. Of his voice, soft and serpentine, buried in her mind like venom.

“He’s here for a reason,” she muttered. “I can feel it. And whatever it is, it’s not just about the exams.”

Hiruzen nodded once.

“You did well, Anko. Keep your eyes on the forest. I’ll mobilize discreet surveillance.” His voice softened. “And… be careful.”

Anko turned, her coat whipping behind her.

If Orochimaru was here, she thought grimly, there would be blood before the end of this.

Hiruzen’s mind raced as he processed Anko’s suspicions. A disguised individual in the Chūnin Exams could be a deadly threat, and he needed someone he could trust to handle the investigation. His gaze turned toward the secluded house at the edge of the village—Aria. Despite her exile, she was still a capable shinobi, loyal to Konoha, and someone who could work in the shadows.

Yet, he couldn’t ignore the lingering doubts. Would she agree? Aria had chosen a life far removed from the village and its politics, but this situation left him with no other option. He had to ask her.

As he approached her cottage, his heart pounded. The path leading to her home was quiet, the air thick with the weight of the conversation he was about to have. With a deep breath, Hiruzen knocked on the door.

It creaked open, revealing Aria, standing as composed as ever. Her sharp gaze scanned him briefly before she opened the door wider. "Hokage-sama," she said, her tone neutral but not unwelcoming. "What brings you here?"

"Aria," Hiruzen began, his voice serious. "I need your help."

Aria tilted her head slightly, waiting for him to continue. Hiruzen felt the gravity of the moment as he spoke. "There’s a situation at hand. Anko has a suspicion that one of the Genin in the Chūnin Exams is hiding their identity. It’s possible they’ve infiltrated the exams under a disguise. I need someone who can move undetected, someone who can investigate without drawing attention. I trust no one more than you to handle this."

Aria’s expression was unreadable, but she didn’t immediately refuse. Instead, she crossed her arms, her gaze steady. "You know my situation, Hokage-sama. I’m not exactly welcome within the walls of Konoha anymore. Why come to me for something like this?"

Hiruzen hesitated. Would she turn him down? Would she refuse to get involved after everything? But he had no other choice. He had to convince her. "I know. I also know that you’ve chosen to stay outside the village, away from its politics. But this is different, Aria. The village needs your expertise. We’re talking about a potential threat that could harm Konoha’s future. And I need someone I can trust to handle this with the discretion it requires."

Aria remained quiet for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly in thought. Then, she nodded. "I’ll do it. But I won’t be stepping into the village like I used to. I’m only going in for the mission—nothing more. The moment it’s over, I’ll leave again."

Hiruzen let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. "I understand, and I won’t ask for more than that. I’ll make sure the Hyūga patrol doesn’t cause you trouble while you’re on this mission. As long as you’re working for the village, they won’t interfere."

Aria’s gaze softened just slightly at his words. "That’s all I need to hear. I’ll work quickly and quietly, Hokage-sama."

"Thank you," Hiruzen said, his voice sincere. "I know this isn’t easy, but the village needs you, Aria. This mission is too important. I’ll handle everything on my end. You focus on getting the job done."

Aria nodded, her expression now one of quiet resolve. "I won’t let you down. I’ll begin immediately."

As she stepped back to close the door, Hiruzen hesitated for a moment. "And... stay safe, Aria. The village needs its protectors, even the ones in the shadows."

Aria’s eyes met his one last time, and there was a flicker of something—acknowledgment, perhaps even understanding. "I will, Hokage-sama. You take care too."

With that, Hiruzen turned and left, his mind already working on the next steps. Aria would investigate from the shadows, ensuring the Genin were safe, and he would make sure she wasn’t disturbed by the Hyūga patrol. The village was safer now, with Aria back in action, even if only for this one mission.

The Hyūga compound stood tall and stoic, the intricate walls and gates a testament to the clan's power and history. Hiruzen walked through the courtyard with a steady pace, his mind focused on the conversation he was about to have. He needed to speak with Hiashi  to ensure that Aria’s mission would not be obstructed by the Hyūga patrol.

As he approached the main house, he could already see Hiashi waiting for him. The clan leader’s expression was neutral, but there was a subtle tension in his posture—a result of the delicate nature of the request that Hiruzen was about to make.

"Welcome, Hokage-sama," Hiashi greeted, stepping forward. His tone was polite, but there was a sharpness to it that suggested he knew something was coming.

Hiruzen bowed his head slightly. "Hiashi, thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

Hiashi nodded, his eyes narrowing. "I take it this isn’t just a social call. What brings you to the compound today?"

Hiruzen took a deep breath, his voice steady but carrying a hint of urgency. "There’s a situation involving Aria. She has agreed to assist in a mission for the village, but she will need to move freely within the village to carry out her task."

Hiashi’s brow furrowed slightly at the mention of Aria. "Aria? After everything that happened with her... what kind of mission could she possibly be trusted with?"

"I understand your concerns," Hiruzen said, his gaze firm. "But this is a matter of great importance. We have reason to believe that one of the Genin in the Chūnin Exams may be an infiltrator, possibly in disguise. Anko has a suspicion, and we need someone with Aria’s skill set to handle the situation without drawing attention. She is the only one who can do this without exposing herself."

Hiashi’s expression didn’t change, but the tension in his shoulders was palpable. "And you expect her to move freely in Konoha, despite her... exile?"

Hiruzen nodded solemnly. "I’m aware that her past with the village and the clan makes this difficult. However, I have spoken with Aria, and she has agreed to help. But for her to do so, I need to ensure that she is not hindered by the Hyūga patrol. She will need to move in and out of the village unnoticed, and I am asking you, Hiashi, to ensure that she is not obstructed while she is on this mission."

Hiashi stood silent for a moment, his sharp eyes studying Hiruzen closely. "And you believe that the Hyūga clan will simply allow this?"

Hiruzen met Hiashi’s gaze directly. "I trust that you will understand the urgency. This mission could mean the safety of the village, Hiashi. I am asking you to allow Aria to do what she does best—work quietly, in the shadows. The patrol will not interfere as long as she is working for Konoha. I’ll make it clear that this mission is a direct order from the Hokage."

Hiashi’s lips tightened into a thin line, but after a long pause, he gave a slow nod. "I understand the gravity of the situation, Hokage-sama. I will ensure that the patrol does not interfere. But know this—Aria’s return to the village will not be without consequences, even if this mission is for the greater good. There are those within the clan who will not take kindly to this."

Hiruzen’s expression softened, but his voice remained resolute. "I am aware of that, Hiashi. But right now, the village’s safety comes first. I trust that you will handle the political aspects within the clan."

Hiashi exhaled sharply, but he didn’t argue further. "Very well. I will speak with the elders. The patrol will be informed of her mission, and they will stay out of her way while she is working for you. But the moment this mission is over, we will reevaluate her position."

Hiruzen nodded in understanding. "Thank you, Hiashi. I know this is not an easy request, but I am confident that this is the right course of action."

Hiashi’s gaze softened for just a moment, and he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. "I will handle it."

Hiruzen turned to leave but paused at the threshold, his voice carrying a final note of resolve. "One last thing. Make sure the elders understand that this is in the best interest of the village. If anyone tries to interfere, let me know."

Hiashi didn’t respond immediately but nodded once more as Hiruzen walked away, leaving the clan leader to deal with the political implications of the decision. As Hiruzen left the compound, he felt a brief sense of relief knowing that Aria’s mission could proceed. But the road ahead was far from clear, and he knew that more challenges would arise—especially when it came to navigating the delicate politics of the Hyūga clan.

Aria stood in front of the mirror, the quiet of the early morning surrounding her as she prepared for the mission. The dim light filtered through the window, casting soft shadows around the room. Her movements were methodical, deliberate—each motion a familiar step in her routine.

The outfit she wore was a perfect balance of elegance and utility. The long-sleeved black top fit on her frame, the fabric stretching comfortably over her arms, leaving no room for excess. The high collar of the top rose just beneath her chin, adding an air of quiet authority. Around her wrists, black bandages were wrapped tightly, offering both protection and mobility, a perfect complement to the sharp precision of her movements.

The skirt, a stark contrast to most shinobi gear, flowed all the way down to her ankles. It was made from a strong yet lightweight material, a deep black that blended seamlessly with the rest of her attire. The skirt was designed with practical slits on both sides, running from just below her hips all the way down to the hem. The slits allowed for fluid motion, giving her the freedom to move quickly and decisively when needed, but the length of the skirt retained a sense of formal elegance. It looked almost ceremonial, but it was far from it. Every inch of it was meant to ensure that she remained poised and unencumbered by the usual restrictions of shinobi clothing.

Her boots, reaching above her knees, were black and sturdy. They were tightly laced and designed to match the sleek nature of her outfit, yet their solid construction made them perfect for silent movement. The soles were thick enough to absorb impact without a sound, ideal for a mission requiring stealth and precision.

Once the skirt was properly adjusted, Aria made sure everything was in place. She checked the twin short blades secured on her back, hidden beneath her cloak, and then glanced at the Silver Moon Seal engraved on her thigh. The faint glow of the seal reminded her of the power it granted her, a reminder of what she was capable of and what was expected of her.

Aria gave herself one final look in the mirror, ensuring everything was prepared for her mission. Just as she was about to leave, the door opened gently. She didn’t need to turn to know who it was—Hokage’s presence was always calm but unmistakable.

“Aria,” he spoke softly, stepping into the room. “You’re ready, then?”

She turned toward him, offering a respectful bow of her head. “Yes, Hokage-sama. Everything is in order.”

He studied her for a long moment, his eyes searching for any sign of hesitation. “You know the risks, don’t you? This mission is far more than just another task. It’s everything that follows.”

Aria nodded with unwavering resolve. “I understand the consequences. But I am ready. I’ve made my choice.”

Hiruzen’s gaze softened slightly, and he placed a hand on her shoulder, a rare gesture of affection. “Just be careful. The village may not fully understand your role here, but I do. You are more than just an assassin to us.”

Her eyes softened for a fraction of a second, but the steely determination that defined her remained. “I know, Hokage-sama. I will return.”

With a final glance of respect, Aria turned toward the door. She moved silently, her long skirt flowing behind her like a shadow as she left the room, the soft click of her boots the only sound in the stillness. Her mission awaited, and the village remained oblivious to the quiet protector walking beyond its walls.

Chapter Text

It had only been an hour.

Sakura adjusted the straps of her pouch as she moved beneath the heavy branches. Her breathing was steady, but her nerves weren’t. The Forest of Death lived up to its name—it smelled like rot, sweat, and the kind of silence that made your skin crawl.

Naruto was a few paces ahead, muttering to himself and brushing branches aside like they were personal enemies. Sasuke was further up, quiet, focused, never once looking back.

Sakura stayed in the middle, like always.

“But I’m not here to follow anymore.”

She scanned the trees again. Every snapping branch, every gust of wind overhead made her flinch. Her hands itched for her kunai even when there was no threat.

She hated how fast it was happening.

The tension. The fear. The way her senses stayed on edge and how her brain wouldn’t shut off.

They’d already seen one team flee—bloodied and panicked. No scroll. No pride. Just fear in their eyes.

“I’m not leaving like that.”

She thought of Kakashi’s words the day before:

“In a forest like this, the most dangerous thing isn’t a trap. It’s hesitation.”

He had looked at her when he said it. Just for a second. Like he wanted her to remember it when the forest started closing in.

She did.

And she also remembered Aria’s voice, quiet but certain:

“If you freeze, someone dies. Move. Think. Trust yourself.”

Sasuke gave a signal from up ahead—two fingers in the air. Enemy nearby. Sakura dropped low instinctively, hand on a kunai, her body responding before her brain could protest.

That felt new.

No panic. No screaming.

Just instinct.

The rustling stopped.

Sasuke’s hand sign froze mid-air. Naruto turned, brows furrowed, and Sakura felt it in her gut before she saw it.

They were being watched.

A blur of movement—two shapes dropped from the canopy above, landing on opposite sides of the trail. One was tall and lean, a mist-nin forehead protector slashed across the middle. The other was broader, cloaked, but fast—too fast.

Sasuke reacted instantly, engaging the first with a flurry of shuriken. Naruto charged the second, yelling something about how they picked the wrong team to mess with.

Sakura was left in the middle.

Alone.

The third attacker came from behind.

She heard the shift of weight on a branch. No chakra surge. No warning. Just the whisper of motion and—

Move.

She rolled just in time. A kunai grazed her shoulder, tearing through the fabric but missing skin. Her heart hammered. Her hand reached without thinking.

Think. Move. Trust yourself.

She pulled a smoke bomb from her pouch, yanked the pin, and slammed it into the ground. A hiss of grey filled the space between them.

She didn’t run. She moved laterally, ducking behind a tree, flanking instead of fleeing.

“If you retreat without a plan, you corner yourself.”

Aria’s voice again.

The attacker coughed and leapt out of the smoke—straight into her trap.

Sakura burst out from the side with a kunai in reverse grip and slammed it toward the assailant’s arm, aiming to disarm. She missed the main vein—but scraped deep. He cursed and stumbled, momentarily disoriented.

That was enough.

Sasuke was already finishing his fight with a lightning-fast taijutsu combo. Naruto had managed to pin his opponent under a tangled mess of shadow clones.

And now Sakura was still standing.

Breathing hard. Bleeding a little. But standing.

She didn’t gloat. She didn’t smile.

But for the first time since entering the forest, she thought:

I did that right. I didn’t freeze.

And that was everything.

As the last of the smoke cleared, Naruto jogged over, winded but grinning. His hair was a mess of twigs and sweat, and one of his clones was still dragging the unconscious enemy into a bush.

Then he looked at Sakura — really looked.

His grin faltered for half a second, replaced by something quieter. Thoughtful.

“You moved fast,” he said, wiping dirt from his cheek. “Like—bam!” He threw his hands in the air to mimic the smoke bomb. “I didn’t even see where you went for a second.”

Sakura blinked, still catching her breath.

“You flanked him,” Naruto continued, more serious now. “You didn’t panic. That was… pretty awesome, actually.”

Sakura opened her mouth, then shut it.

Compliments from Naruto weren’t rare — but this wasn’t loud or careless. This was him noticing. Not teasing. Not trying to impress anyone.

Just acknowledging her.

She glanced down at her scratched glove, then back up. “Thanks,” she said, her voice a little hoarse.

Naruto grinned again, full and warm now. “You’ve really been training, huh?”

“Yeah,” Sakura murmured, eyes flicking toward Sasuke, who hadn’t said anything but had clearly seen it all. “I have.”

Naruto nodded. “Good. ‘Cause something tells me this place is just getting started.”

The underbrush crackled softly under Kiba’s boots, despite Akamaru’s best warning growl.

Too loud, Hinata thought, crouching low as she scanned the trees with her Byakugan. Veins bulged at the corners of her eyes, her breath slow and controlled.

“I told you to move lighter,” Shino murmured beside her, voice barely more than a whisper.

Kiba scoffed. “You want me to float? I’m not a beetle.”

Akamaru growled again.

“We’re not alone,” Hinata said quietly, cutting through their bickering. “There’s a team—two o’clock, high branches. They’ve been following us for a few minutes.”

Kiba tensed. “How many?”

“Three,” she replied. “I can’t see their headbands from here, but one has a very strong chakra flow.”

Shino adjusted his glasses. “So they’re tracking us. Probably testing how we respond before engaging.”

Kiba grinned. “Good. Let ‘em come.”

“No,” Hinata said firmly, her voice soft but steady. “We make the first move. We lure them.”

Both boys turned to look at her. Shino nodded after a moment. “Agreed. We draw them in—then isolate.”

Hinata deactivated her Byakugan and adjusted her stance. Her heart was beating faster now, but her hands didn’t shake.

This is real.

This isn’t the Hyūga compound. This isn’t practice.

“Let’s move southeast,” she said. “There’s a ridge—narrow ground. They won’t be able to spread out.”

Kiba gave her a sharp look. “Since when are you giving the orders?”

Shino stepped forward calmly. “Since her eyes are the ones keeping us alive.”

Kiba went quiet .

They moved.

They reached the ridge in under three minutes — a narrow, root-twisted slope with dense trees on one side and a steep drop on the other.

“Here,” Hinata said, scanning the terrain. “They’ll follow us straight in. If we force them to split—Kiba, you handle the left. Shino, right. I’ll drop down and strike from below when they engage.”

Shino nodded once. “The undergrowth is thick enough. I’ll leave a trail of kikaichū in the trees to track their path. If they split at all, I’ll know before they move.”

Kiba cracked his knuckles. “I still don’t like hiding. I say we just hit ‘em.”

Hinata turned toward him, her pale eyes steady but not harsh. “We’re not here to show off. We’re here to pass. And if we waste chakra fighting on their terms, we’ll lose the scroll or worse.”

He flinched, just a bit. She wasn’t scolding. She was leading.

Shino looked to Hinata. “When do we strike?”

Hinata activated her Byakugan again. “Now. They’re here.”

Three flickers of motion in the trees above. Light footsteps. Whispered signals. They hadn’t noticed the ridge yet — they were still in formation, thinking they had the advantage.

“Split,” Hinata ordered.

Kiba darted left through the brush. Shino melted into the shadow of the ridge. Hinata dropped down, pressing herself low between tangled roots and moss.

She waited.

The first enemy landed right at the ridge’s edge, crouching low, scanning the underbrush where Team 8 had just been. The second stepped forward, signaling to the third in the trees to stay elevated.

Perfect.

Shino’s kikaichū swarmed silently, spreading like a second shadow.

Kiba burst from the left with a roar — loud, wild, drawing their attention. The lead enemy turned to face him—

And Hinata was there.

Her palm struck upward into his ribs, chakra focused just behind the blow. He stumbled back, eyes wide in pain. She didn’t stop. Her foot swept his ankle, and her second strike came fast — a spiral thrust aimed for his collarbone.

He hit the ground hard.

Behind her, Shino’s insects erupted from the shadows, latching onto the third opponent before he could react. Kiba was already mid-scrap with the second, but now he had backup.

Three seconds.

Three moves.

They had control.

Hinata didn’t smile. Her hands were still raised, her stance still tight. But she felt something anchor inside her — something solid.

She didn’t just belong on this team.

She was leading it.

Kiba growled low in his throat as he ducked a kunai swipe. The enemy had good reflexes, but he was panicking — too focused on Kiba’s speed, not the rhythm.

“You’re mine,” Kiba muttered.

“Don’t overextend!” Hinata called sharply, her eyes tracking every twitch of chakra.

The warning came just in time.

The enemy leapt back, attempting to bait Kiba into chasing him toward a wired trap hidden behind the foliage. Kiba skidded to a stop, teeth bared. “Tch. Thanks.”

Hinata was already moving. She flanked left, silently and precise, her fingers glowing faintly with focused chakra. The opponent barely noticed her until she was inches away.

Her strike landed clean — a sharp jab to his shoulder joint, severing the chakra flow to his arm. He shouted in pain and stumbled.

Kiba lunged forward.

“Fang Over Fang!”

He and Akamaru spun like twin drills, a blur of movement that slammed into the enemy’s center mass, launching him backward into a tree.

He didn’t get up.

For a moment, there was only the wind through the leaves and the rustling of Shino’s insects pulling back toward him, their work done.

Hinata stood quietly, breathing steady, eyes scanning for any movement. The third opponent was still paralyzed, wrapped in chakra-draining insects and unconscious from the swarm.

Kiba jogged over, panting but grinning.

“Nice hit,” he said. “You’re faster than before.”

Hinata didn’t smile, but her gaze softened. “You didn’t charge in blindly this time.”

“Heh.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess we’re both improving.”

Shino stepped forward, adjusting his jacket collar. “The scroll?”

Hinata bent to check their pouches — and when her fingers closed around the Heaven scroll, she nodded.

“We’ve got it.”

They stood in silence for a moment — not triumphant, not loud.

Just steady.

Team 8 had passed their first real test.

The sky above the Forest of Death didn’t change much—not really.

Sakura sat beneath a thick-rooted tree, fingers wrapped around the strap of her med pouch. Her back was pressed to bark, her knees drawn up. The canopy overhead blocked most of the light, turning day into a sickly twilight. If not for her watch, she wouldn’t have known the hour.

Exactly twenty-four hours.

She glanced down at the gash on her shoulder, bandaged hastily in the dark hours before dawn. It didn’t hurt as much anymore. Or maybe she’d just gotten used to it. Her body was running on instinct now. Movement. Stillness. Vigilance. Her stomach grumbled softly, but she ignored it.

“We’ve got half a canteen left,” she whispered.

Naruto was asleep just meters away, face-down in a bed of moss, snoring faintly. Sasuke was perched in the tree above, one leg dangling, his eyes never stopping their sweep of the terrain.

They hadn’t spoken much since the ambush.

They had one scroll.

No clue if it was the one they needed.

No time to risk checking.

Sakura flexed her fingers and stared at her palms. The dirt beneath her nails, the tiny tremor she hadn’t shaken since the last fight—it all told her what training never could: this wasn’t a drill. This was survival.

But she hadn’t frozen again.

Even after a second team came after them.

Even when Naruto’s clones weren’t fast enough.

Even when Sasuke got grazed across the ribs.

She had moved, calculated, supported.

Still, the forest felt endless. The silence between battles was worse than the fights. It gave fear time to crawl in.

She closed her eyes and repeated Kakashi’s words again:

“The most dangerous thing isn’t a trap. It’s hesitation.”

And Aria’s:

“If you freeze, someone dies.”

She wouldn't forget. She couldn’t.

She wasn’t here to follow anymore.

Hinata’s hands stung.

She sat with her back pressed to a jagged rock wall, breathing through her nose, keeping it quiet, measured. Shino stood a few meters off, feeding his insects, while Kiba crouched beside Akamaru, whispering into the pup’s fur.

They had fought twice.

The first was clean. Controlled. Exactly how she planned.

The second wasn’t.

It was messy. Kiba had rushed, Shino had lost track of one opponent in the underbrush, and Hinata had taken a hit to the ribs she hadn’t told them about yet.

But they won.

She had led.

They had a scroll.

They were still standing.

Still... she could feel the exhaustion setting in. Not just in her muscles but behind her eyes. A pressure. Like if she blinked too long, she might not open them again.

Twenty-four hours. No full sleep. No guarantees.

She clutched her canteen tighter, then loosened her grip with effort. Her palms were red from chakra burns. She’d used more than she should have in the last fight—just to make sure her strike landed.

It had. The enemy hadn’t gotten back up.

She hated that.

But she didn’t regret it.

Kurenai’s words came back to her in pieces:

“There is no shame in holding compassion. But don’t let it cost your team their lives.”

Aria’s had been colder:

“If you can’t finish a fight, you’re only adding another corpse to the count. Don’t let it be yours.”

Hinata exhaled and tightened the wrap around her middle.

Shino stepped closer, sensing something.

“You’re hurt.”

Hinata didn’t deny it. “It’s not deep.”

“We’ll rest here another hour. Then move.” He paused, then added, “You fought well.”

Kiba looked over at them but didn’t comment. His bruised ego from earlier was still fading. But he didn’t argue either.

Hinata stared at her open hand.

Still shaking.

Still fighting.

Still here.

She wasn’t the same girl who entered the forest.

And she wouldn’t leave it the same either.

The wind was wrong.

Sakura felt it first—an eerie stillness, heavy like the moment before a scream. Birds had vanished, even the distant rustling of leaves gone quiet. Her hand instinctively reached for her kunai pouch.

“Sasuke,” she murmured, her voice tight. “Something’s off.”

He nodded. Even Naruto, reckless and ever charging forward, was still. His fingers twitched toward a clone seal but never completed it.

They weren’t being hunted.

They were being stalked.

And then—

A voice. Slithering, cold.

“Such promising young leaves…”

From above, a blur. Leaves scattered. A gust swept through the clearing.

And from it, a figure emerged. Pale skin, long black hair, snake eyes behind the disguise of a Grass genin.

He smiled.

And the air shifted.

It started subtly.

The trees stretched unnaturally, their shadows lengthening like claws. The wind turned metallic, tinged with the scent of blood. The sky twisted into a deep, bruised red.

Sakura gasped. Sasuke clutched his head. Naruto growled but froze mid-step.

Everything was wrong. Everything was—

A genjutsu.

Kurenai-sensei’s voice came back to her, sharp and precise in memory.

"Genjutsu attacks the senses. But it also attacks your confidence. It makes you believe what you see—until you don’t trust yourself anymore."

"The key is not to dispel it by force. It’s to find the fracture in the illusion and push your will through it."

Sakura dropped to one knee, shutting her eyes tight.

Where was the flaw?

She bit her thumb hard. Felt the blood. Pain—real. She focused on it. Pushed her chakra outward in a sharp pulse, just as Kurenai had taught.

The world flickered—then cracked like glass.

In an instant, the trees returned to normal. The blood vanished. The red sky blinked back to blue.

She was free.

The others weren’t.

But then, another blur. A silver flash. The hiss of chakra-charged air.

Aria landed between them, a blade of moonlight chakra in her hand.

Her arm rose—metal meeting skin. She blocked Orochimaru’s hand inches from Sakura’s face.

He clicked his tongue, stepping back. “Ah… Aria Hyūga.”

“You don’t touch them,” she said coldly. “Not one.”

“Oh, I’ll need only seconds,” he whispered, “Just long enough to mark the boy.”

He lunged again—this time at Naruto.

Sakura gasped—but Aria moved faster.

Chakra shimmered around her. A veil of ghostly silver.

Aria twisted in mid-air, intercepting Orochimaru’s strike with a burst of her Lunar Divine Palm. His hand was thrown back with a crack of impact. Chakra clashed—violent and hot.

Orochimaru skidded back, mouth twitching. The curse mark on Sasuke’s neck glowed faintly—one tomoe only. Still forming. But unstable.

“That’s enough,” Aria said.

The temperature dropped. Her chakra rippled through the air like winter wind.

Orochimaru sneered. “So dramatic…”

But even he didn’t press further.

“You’ve wasted my time,” he said flatly. “But I’ll return.”

He melted into the shadows—vanishing among the trees.

Aria turned instantly—and pursued, leaping after him without a word.

The wind shifted.

Hinata felt it like a cold whisper across her skin—a sudden, sharp disruption in the chakra flow of the forest. Not just chakra.

Malice.

“Shino,” she said quietly, “do you feel that?”

He nodded. “Someone passed through here. Recently. It’s not natural.”

Kiba sniffed the air, brow furrowing. “It’s sharp… like blood and fire.”

Hinata activated her Byakugan. Her vision pierced through branches, rocks, even shallow roots—and there it was.

A fading trail of immense chakra.

She didn’t wait.

She ran.

The clearing was torn apart.

Hinata stood at the edge, her Byakugan still active, but she didn’t need it to feel the aftermath of the battle. The air hung heavy. The earth was scorched, trees gashed and bleeding sap. It felt like something ancient had passed through—and left its mark.

At the center, Sakura knelt, clutching Sasuke’s unconscious body, her arms locked tight around him like she could keep him from being taken again.

Naruto stood nearby, dirt-streaked and wide-eyed, fists still clenched like he hadn’t realized the fight was already over.

“Hinata?” he said, breathless.

She stepped forward cautiously, scanning them both. Then her gaze dropped to Sasuke—and to the dark, incomplete swirl crawling up the side of his neck.

“What happened?” she asked, already fearing the answer.

Naruto blew out a breath, still rattled. “Some guy showed up. Pale. Cold. Strong. We didn’t stand a chance.”

He paused, jaw working. “He went for Sasuke. Bit him, I think. Like he was trying to put something inside him.”

Hinata flinched.

“But then—” Naruto’s brow furrowed. “Some woman jumped in. Didn’t even say anything. She just blocked him. Then chased him off.”

Hinata blinked. “A woman?”

Sakura didn’t look up.

But her hand moved.

Slow. Subtle.

She lifted one shaking finger and brushed it across the cherry blossom pendant that hung just below her collarbone.

It glinted faintly in the filtered light.

Hinata’s breath caught.

She knew that shape. That color. That gift.

Aria.

“She came,” Hinata whispered.

Sakura’s voice was hoarse but steady. “She stopped him. It wasn’t enough to undo the damage, but… she didn’t let him finish it.”

Naruto blinked. “You know her?”

Neither girl answered.

Hinata crouched beside Sakura, her voice lower now. “Did she say anything?”

Sakura shook her head. “She didn’t need to.”

Shino and Kiba arrived seconds later, weapons at the ready. Shino assessed the scene instantly. Kiba’s eyes widened at Sasuke’s state.

“What the hell happened to him?” Kiba asked.

Sakura didn’t answer. She just looked down, cradling Sasuke’s limp weight.

“Someone marked him,” Shino observed quietly, noting the dark seal. “But not completely.”

“We need to move,” Hinata said softly. “This place… it’s still echoing.”

Sakura stood slowly, still steady despite her trembling legs. She didn’t look like the same girl Hinata had seen before the exams.

And neither did she.

Chapter Text

The forest whispered.

Aria moved like mist—silent, unseen, her presence swallowed by the trees. Her chakra was suppressed to the barest thread, untraceable. She leapt branch to branch, guided not by sight, but by instinct.

She wasn’t hunting.

She was searching.

And she was late.

The chakra in the air wasn’t just malevolent. It was putrid—twisting and toxic, like snakes coiling through the roots. She felt it seep into the forest floor, thick and wrong.

Orochimaru.

He was here.

Her breath left her slow and silent as she focused.

Byakugan.

Her veins pulsed at the corners of her eyes. The world expanded.

Layers of trees dissolved into outlines. Threads of chakra glowed in pale detail. Dozens of insects in the canopy. A bird mid-flight. Two squirrels.

And then—Sakura.

Frozen.

Her chakra spiked with panic, her body trembling.

Sakura stood in the clearing—blade in hand, but unmoving.

The Uchiha was screaming, arched in pain on the ground. The curse mark had begun to burn across his skin. The jinchūriki was on his knees, injured, dazed. Helpless.

And Orochimaru—he was above them all.

Aria didn’t think.

She moved.

She pushed chakra to her legs and vanished from the branch with a pulse of air.

The forest blurred.

She moved faster than wind, silent as falling ash. Her breath was measured. Her muscles tight. Her focus singular.

Get to her.

Not the Uchiha. Not even the jinchūriki.

Sakura.

That girl who had walked into her clearing with dirt on her boots and fire in her voice. That girl who still stood, even when she shook.

Aria felt something flare in her chest—a tightness she hadn’t known she still carried.

She was almost there.

She arrived the moment Orochimaru leaned over the Uchiha, his hand resting on the boy’s chest, watching the curse mark burn.

The jinchūriki stirred weakly nearby.

Sakura hadn’t moved.

The fear in her chakra told Aria all she needed.

Aria landed silently behind him.

No warning. No word.

Her hand flashed forward—chakra flaring like cold moonlight—and struck.

Orochimaru flinched back, his attack interrupted. The curse mark pulsed but didn’t finish. One tomoe only.

Sakura gasped as a wave of wind blasted outward.

Aria stood between them now. Her eyes glowing faintly with the Byakugan’s edge. Her stance was perfect. Her presence quiet. Deadly.

She didn’t look at Sakura.

She didn’t need to.

Orochimaru straightened slowly, brushing dust from his sleeve like he had all the time in the world.

“I didn’t expect you, of all people,” he said, voice smooth as venom. “Still dancing on Konoha’s strings? You’re wasting yourself on a village that cast you out.”

Aria didn’t answer.

He tilted his head, smiling wider. “They feared you once. Now you serve them. You call that growth?” He took a slow step forward, unbothered by the wound she'd left on his hand. “You guard their heirs like a watch dog. The Uchiha. The jinchūriki. And especially... that trembling little flower.”

His eyes flicked briefly to Sakura.

Aria didn’t move—but her chakra did. It surged just slightly, silver mist lacing the air around her.

Orochimaru noticed.

His smile twisted, deepening into something cruel.

“But tell me... if you're so devoted to this village now, Aria... will you be fast enough to save the rest of your precious clan?”

Her heart skipped.

He saw it.

“Neji Hyūga. Hinata Hyūga. Both so far from home. Both walking through a forest that eats children. What would I gain if I plucked out their eyes, I wonder?”

Her breath tightened.

That was the break he wanted.

Orochimaru moved again, darting toward the jinchūriki—quick and sharp, trying to divide her attention, trying to bait her—

—but she didn’t hesitate.

She caught him mid-strike, her palm glowing with Lunar Divine Palm, and slammed his arm aside. The impact cracked the earth.

“You won’t touch them,” she said, voice low.

“You can’t protect everyone,” he hissed.

“I only need to protect them from you.”

He slipped backward, then up—into the branches, vanishing into the canopy like smoke through cracks.

And Aria was already moving.

She launched after him, Byakugan still active, her gaze piercing trees, terrain, and tricks.

She didn’t fear losing him.

She feared what he would take if she let him escape.

Neji. Hinata. Sakura.

All of them mattered.

And he had just made the mistake of threatening all three.

Night had settled over the ridge like a heavy blanket, the darkness pressing in with an oppressive stillness.

Team 7 and Team 8 huddled together in a rough circle, their backs against stone and roots, hidden by thick shadows. The faint glow of fireflies blinked in and out across the moss, but no one dared to light a fire. Not here. Not tonight.

Sasuke slept uneasily, his body twitching now and then, as if the curse on him pulsed even in his dreams.

Naruto sat nearby, restless, unable to sit still.

His legs bounced.

His arms were crossed tightly.

But his mouth—his mouth wouldn’t stay shut.

"So," he said loudly, breaking the silence, "who the hell was she?"

The question lingered in the air, unanswered.

Sakura sat with her knees drawn up, hands wrapped tightly around them, staring into the darkness. Hinata sat nearby, arms folded in her lap, her eyes half-lowered but alert. Shino adjusted his insect seals, his concentration sharp. Kiba chewed on a stick, one brow raised, sensing the tension in the air.

Naruto frowned, looking between them all. "You all saw her, right? Not just me? That wasn’t some chakra illusion or forest ghost or something?"

The silence hung thick.

Naruto’s frustration deepened. He turned to Sakura, voice rising. “She saved us. She stopped that guy. We didn’t even see her coming.”

Sakura didn’t look at him, her gaze lost in the shadows.

“I mean, it was crazy,” he continued, his words coming faster. “That kind of power? That kind of speed? She blocked that guy like it was nothing. You don’t just walk away from that without some kind of explanation!”

Still, no answer.

Naruto turned to Hinata, his eyes searching. "You knew her, didn’t you?"

Hinata stiffened at the question, her expression unreadable. But she didn’t respond.

Kiba snorted, his voice low but firm. "He’s not wrong."

Shino’s eyes flicked up from his seals, his usually neutral expression now tinged with curiosity. “She had full mastery over high-level chakra control. She intercepted that man and held her ground. That level of skill... it’s not typical. It’s something rare.”

“She also knew exactly where to find you,” Kiba added, his tone serious now. “That's no coincidence.”

Naruto's frustration finally boiled over. “Who is she, Sakura? What the hell’s going on?”

Sakura’s fingers dug into the moss beneath her knees. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. Her throat tightened.

“She…” Her voice faltered. “I don’t know.”

Naruto’s eyes widened. “What? You don’t know?”

Sakura’s voice grew more strained. “I don’t know who she is. I didn’t ask her to come.”

Hinata shifted beside her, her gaze lowering, as though unsure whether to speak.

Sakura pressed on, her voice quieter now. “She came on her own. I—I'm just as confused as you are, but… I’m grateful she did.”

Naruto stared at her, trying to piece together what she was saying. "But why would she just show up like that? Why didn't you—"

"I didn’t know," Sakura interrupted, her voice low but firm. "I never asked her to come. But when she did—when she stepped in—I… I’m glad she did."

Shino’s brow furrowed slightly, his mind clearly working. “I can’t say for sure, but something about her… the way she moved, the way she handled herself… there’s something off. It’s almost like she knew exactly what we needed, and when we needed it.”

Kiba leaned forward, his usual cocky demeanor replaced by something more serious. “She knew where we were and when to intervene... that’s more than just a coincidence. This is a lot bigger than just a random act of kindness.”

Naruto stood up, his frustration reaching its peak. “Come on! You’re telling us you don’t know who she is? Why are you two hiding something?”

Sakura met his gaze, her eyes steady despite the tension. "It’s not that I’m hiding anything. I just… I don’t know who she is, Naruto. All I know is that she showed up, and she protected us."

Kiba, who had been quiet up until now, suddenly spoke up. "I did a sweep around the perimeter. I tried to catch her scent." He hesitated, eyes narrowing in thought. "It… it smelled similar to Hinata’s."

Hinata’s eyes flicked up at the mention of her name, but she remained silent.

Shino glanced at Kiba, his face  unreadable . "What does that mean? Are you saying she’s from the village?"

Kiba shook his head slowly. "I’m not sure. It’s just the scent—it was familiar, but I couldn’t track her down. It was like she was just… there, and then gone."

Naruto, still standing, turned to look at Sakura one last time. “But this isn’t some random woman. I know that. So who the hell is she?”

Sakura met his gaze, her expression tired but resolute. “I don’t know, Naruto. But if we ever see her again, we’ll have more questions than answers.”

The silence that followed was thick, as if the air itself was holding its breath.

Hinata shifted slightly, her voice barely audible. “Some people… they act in the shadows. You might never know them, but they’ll always be there when you need them most.”

Naruto lowered himself back to the ground, frustration still boiling in his gut. He didn’t have the answers. And the more he pushed, the more he realized the answers weren’t coming anytime soon.

But he couldn’t shake the feeling that this mystery was far from over.

As they paused for a few seconds, the group fell into a heavy silence—unexpected, considering that Naruto and Kiba were both present. Still, Sakura appreciated the rare moment of quiet as she carefully checked Sasuke’s condition.

He was pale, his lips tinged blue, and his face contorted in pain, as if someone were slowly torturing him. Sakura didn’t think continuing to move was helping him, but in this cursed forest, a ten-minute break was the only luxury they could afford.

“We should get going,” Shino said sharply. “This place won’t stay quiet for long.”

Even if Sakura didn’t want to move Sasuke, she knew he was right. As she stood and prepared to leave, she heard Hinata’s voice—low and alert.

“Three chakra signatures. About 900 meters away. They're moving toward us.”

Sakura’s heart skipped. In an instant, she dropped into a fighting stance alongside Shino and Kiba. Naruto shifted Sasuke onto his back, readying himself.

Sakura glanced at Hinata, looking for more information—but saw her Byakugan fade. Just as a flicker of worry rose in her chest, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

“Great. More people. Just what I needed. How trouble—”

Shikamaru stepped into view, Team 10 at his side—but he didn’t finish his sentence.

“What happened to you all?” Choji asked, eyes wide.

Before anyone could respond, Ino was already at Sasuke’s side, her hands hovering as she assessed him. Worry spread across her face like wildfire.

If it had been any other group, Shikamaru might’ve kept walking. Might’ve used the opportunity to his advantage. But he knew Ino would never agree to leave them behind. Neither would Choji.

And truthfully… he didn’t care much about the Chūnin Exams anyway.

So, like the pragmatic child he was, he looked up at the cloudy sky and sighed.

“We’ve got a sheltered spot just west of here. If you trust us, we can all rest there. Just for the night.”

The  teams hunkered down beneath a thick canopy of branches, barely lit by the moon. Shino’s insects formed a perimeter. Kiba and Akamaru took watch to the east.

Sakura crouched beside Sasuke after telling there story once again ,with Shikamarus eyes never leaving her or Hinata.

pressing two fingers gently to his pulse. His skin was cold, but he was stable—for now.

“He’s holding on,” she murmured.

Naruto sat on a log across the fire, staring into the flames. Looking like a lost child

Shikamaru leaned against a tree nearby, arms crossed. “You know,” he whispered  lazily, “I don’t believe you.”

Sakura didn’t look up. “About what?”

“The woman,” he said simply. “Whoever she was. You knew her.”

Sakura didn’t answer.

Hinata, lying a short distance away, stared up through the branches, listening to Shikamarus words . Her eyes were open, but she also said nothing.

Shikamaru didn’t press.

But he didn’t sleep either.

Chapter Text

The morning sun filtered weakly through the trees, painting golden rays over the forest floor. With Naruto watching over Sasuke and the others resting, Sakura, Hinata, and Ino set out to gather herbs—a mix of medical necessity and a quiet moment to breathe.

They worked in companionable silence at first. Ino found a small sprig of pain-relieving white-leaf mint, and Hinata discovered moss used for treating burns.

Sakura was kneeling in the brush, fingers delicately picking a flowering plant. “It’s strange,” she said quietly. “How just two weeks ago I wouldn’t have imagined the two of us doing this together again.”

Ino smiled, tucking a violet bloom into her pouch. “Yeah, well… I’ve grown up a little. And I think you have, too.”

Hinata looked between them, her voice soft. “I’m glad you’re both here.”

Sakura looked up, and their eyes met—no rivalry, no bitterness. Just quiet understanding. “Me too.”

That peace shattered in an instant.

A scream pierced the forest, raw and desperate.

The three girls froze. Sakura was the first to move, bolting in the direction of the cry, Ino and Hinata right behind her.

They burst into a clearing just in time to see a red-haired girl sprinting through the trees, her clothes torn and dirt smeared across her skin. Behind her, something large and shadowy moved—a forest creature warped by chakra, its shape flickering unnaturally.

Hinata activated her Byakugan immediately. “It’s fast!”

Sakura didn’t wait. She dashed forward, meeting the beast head-on with a crushing chakra-enhanced punch that slammed it into the trees. Ino followed up with a binding jutsu, and Hinata’s palms struck the creature’s core. It let out a strangled howl and dissolved into the forest shadows.

The girl collapsed to her knees, breathing hard.

Ino knelt beside her. “Are you alright?”

Her breathing was ragged, wild—eyes darting, lips trembling. She backed away from the girls who had just saved her, fingers clenched into her tattered shirt as if expecting another attack.

But instead of the answer she heard the girl cry out loud

“No, no—don't touch me, don't touch me!” she cried, curling into herself.

Sakura stepped forward instinctively, hands raised. “Hey—it’s okay! You’re safe now—”

But the girl wasn’t hearing her. She was gasping, shaking—like her mind was still in that chase.

Hinata crouched beside her, worried. “She’s panicking…”

“I got this,” Ino said quietly, stepping forward and pressing two fingers together.

Sakura glanced over. “Ino—?”

“Don’t worry,” Ino murmured. “I’m not taking control—just calming her thoughts.”

Her jutsu activated, and her chakra linked with her mind. Ino’s expression softened, like she’d stepped into a storm and whispered through it. “You’re not alone anymore. You’re safe. Breathe with me…”

Girl’s body trembled once more… then slowly, her breathing began to even out. Her hands unclenched. Her shoulders sagged. Her eyes opened, blinking like she was seeing the world again for the first time.

Ino released the jutsu gently.

The redhead  blinked at her. “What… was that?”

“A little nudge,” Ino smiled. “To help you come back.”

She looked around now—really looked. “You… saved me,” she said softly. “I didn’t think anyone would.”

Sakura approached more carefully this time. “What were you doing out here alone?”

 hesitated, brushing her arm across her face. “I got separated. From a group I don’t want to go back to.” Her voice shook. “That thing chased me. I thought I was going to die.”

She moved to sit up straighter—and winced, holding her side. Blood was seeping from a deep cut on her ribs, half-hidden beneath her torn shirt.

“Wait—don’t move too much—” Sakura began.

But before she could react, She bit her own wrist.

“What are you doing—?” Ino gasped.

She winced, but didn’t explain. A second later, chakra surged visibly from her body—a dense, radiant energy flowing through her like a current. The wound on her side began to close, the skin repairing itself rapidly until only pink, raw flesh remained.

All three girls stared.

“You just…” Sakura murmured. “Healed yourself. That fast?”

She gave a small, tired nod. “It’s my thing, I guess.”

Sakura’s mind raced. She hadn’t seen a technique like that before. Was it safe? Was it real? This girl had been running from something—but what if she was dangerous herself?

She exchanged a quick look with Hinata, who gave a subtle shake of her head—no threats in girls chakra. Ino looked equally cautious, but curious.

Still, Sakura hesitated.

“What is your name “ Hinata asked with her soft voice

“ Karin “ was the only thing the girl said

She hesitated , as if wanting to add something ,but Sakura knew really well ,that she should not push this subject.

 Just like with Sasuke , as she thought about him her memories rushed with awful images.

His shallow breathing. His pale skin. The way his pulse had fluttered like a candle flame.

She bit her lip. “I have to ask…” she said slowly, voice tight. “There’s someone back at our camp. He’s hurt. Badly. I’ve stabilized him, but he’s not waking up.”

She blinked. “You want me to…”

“I don’t know if I should trust you,” Sakura admitted, and there was no malice in it—just raw honesty. “I don’t even know who you are. But…”

Her voice cracked, just slightly.

“If there’s even a chance you can help him—I need to take it.”

Karin nodded, her eyes unreadable. “Then let’s go.”

As the girls walked through the forest—dense, dangerous, and teeming with creatures and enemies ready to strike—Hinata couldn't help but question their decision. Was it truly wise to trust someone they had only just met?

But when she glanced back at the redheaded girl trailing behind them, wounded and silent, she reminded herself: they needed her. Sasuke needed her. That was why Hinata hadn’t objected when they decided to bring Karin to the safety of their hidden camp. It was a risk—but one they had to take.

As the Hideout neared, Hinata could feel the weight of hesitation pressing down on all of them. She wasn’t the only one. The unease was written across Ino and Sakura’s faces too. They knew their teammates would be angry, maybe even furious, that they’d brought a stranger to their hideout. And Hinata understood why. In the middle of the Chūnin Exams, trust was hard-earned and easily broken.

Just before they reached the edge of the clearing, Hinata stopped walking.

Her sudden stillness didn’t go unnoticed. The other girls turned around, eyes wide with uncertainty and tension, as if the air had thickened around them.

“I think we should talk to the boys first,” Hinata said softly, but with conviction. “They need to know what’s coming… before we bring her in.”

Sakura let out a breath, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “You’re right,” she murmured. “If we explain everything, they might actually listen.”

Ino frowned. “Then one of us has to stay behind with her.”

Her gaze drifted to Karin, who stood stiffly behind them, red eyes darting between the trees as if expecting someone—or something—to jump out at any moment.

“I’ll stay,” Ino said after a beat. “She’s barely holding it together, and I’m the only one who can calm her down if she panics again.”

Hinata noticed the fear flicker in Karin’s expression—the quiet dread that she was about to be left behind. Forgotten. Abandoned in this unforgiving forest.

Hinata stepped closer and gave her a small, gentle smile. “Don’t worry,” she said in a reassuring voice. “Our teammates are careful, but they’re not unkind. We’re not going to leave you behind.”

Karin didn’t reply, but her shoulders loosened just slightly.

With that, Hinata turned back toward the cave, Sakura at her side. They walked in silence—heavy, deliberate, and full of tension. Neither of them spoke, but the weight of their decision lingered between them like mist clinging to the ground.

They had taken a chance. Now they just had to hope it wouldn’t break everything.

As they entered the hideout, Sakura looked around and saw all of her former classmates sitting with tense shoulders, while Sasuke still lay limp on the makeshift bed.

Shikamaru was the first to notice them.

“Ino is nearby—don’t worry,” Sakura said quickly, before he had the chance to ask.

Even though she saw his shoulders relax slightly, his intense glare remained. He clearly realized there must be a reason for Ino’s absence.

But no matter how hard she tried, Sakura couldn’t find the right words to explain. Especially with all of the boys staring at her, waiting for her to speak.

As she was still bracing herself, Hinata stepped in front of her, head held high, and looked Shikamaru directly in the eyes.

“When we were in the forest, we found a girl from the Hidden Grass Village. We helped her escape a beast that was chasing her, and afterward, we learned she’s an exceptional healer. She’s staying nearby with Ino, who’s guarding her, since she seems to have panic attacks every few minutes. But she agreed to help us with Sasuke after we helped her.”

Once Hinata finished explaining, Sakura could feel all of them staring—with expressions full of anger and disbelief. A few seconds of silence passed, though they felt like an eternity. Shikamaru sighed, clearly frustrated, but he didn’t get the chance to speak—because Naruto jumped up and stood directly in front of Hinata, eyes blazing.

“Are the three of you out of your minds? You brought someone we barely know near Sasuke when he’s in this condition?”

Before either of them could respond, Shino cut in.

“I have to agree with Naruto. She could easily be an enemy trying to get close.”

Sakura stepped forward quickly.

“I know what we did was dangerous, but please understand—Sasuke is in critical condition, and none of us can heal him. We didn’t have a choice.”

The next few minutes were a blur for Sakura. Naruto and Kiba were shouting. Shikamaru sighed every few seconds. Shino kept pacing the perimeter, brooding. Choji, on the other hand, was trying to de-escalate the tension.

But none of it seemed to matter. None of them understood why they had done it.

What hurt the most, though, was when Naruto yelled that at this point, she clearly only cared about Sasuke—and that by bringing a stranger into their camp, she was doing more harm than good.

For Sakura, it was painfully ironic. Yes, she hadn’t fully gotten over her feelings yet. But for weeks, she had worked tirelessly to be a better friend, a better ninja, a better person. And now, it felt like none of that mattered. Not even Naruto could see her efforts—so what hope was there that the others ever would?

As the first tears began to escape her eyes, she heard a cold sound. 

"Stop."

Hinata had  spoken up once again, but with such a voice that made the chills run down her spine 

Everyone stared, stunned. Even Sakura.

Before the shock could settle, Hinata spoke:

“Naruto. What you just said to Sakura was really disrespectful. She’s been up all night taking care of Sasuke. She’s been training for weeks just so she wouldn’t hold her team back. She’s done her best—and now you, of all people, who knows what it’s like to work your whole life just to be seen—you’re throwing all of that away. And we both know how much you care about Sasuke too. So let’s just take the chance—because there is no other option.”

Naruto looked hurt. But what Sakura couldn’t quite place was Hinata’s expression. At first glance, it was cold—colder than she had ever seen. But Sakura knew better. Something about Naruto’s words had deeply cut her too.

Then came silence. That awful, heavy silence again. And in that moment, Sakura realized how much she hated silence.

Shikamaru finally broke it.

“You two seem adamant. And I’m sure Ino shares your opinion. So... fine. She can try and heal him. But if she hurts even one of us—even once—it’ll be just as much your fault as hers.”

He ended with his signature sigh.

“I’ll go bring them,” Hinata whispered into the air, then turned and ran—away to find Ino and Karin, but also away from everything that had just happened.

The cave was dim, lit only by the glow of the dying fire and the sharp tension in the air.

When Hinata stepped inside with Karin behind her, every pair of eyes turned.

The red-haired girl kept her gaze low. Her steps were cautious, her presence strange among them. No one moved. No one spoke.

Sakura knelt beside Sasuke’s limp form, brushing his dark bangs from his pale forehead. His skin was cold. Too cold.

Naruto stood near the wall, arms crossed tightly over his chest, watching every movement Karin made with thinly veiled distrust.

Kiba’s nose twitched. Shino watched silently, unreadable behind his glasses. And Shikamaru… he wasn’t blinking—just watching Karin like he was trying to figure out a puzzle he didn’t like the edges of.

Ino stayed close to Karin, her hand on the girl’s back like she might collapse. Hinata stepped away from them both and moved beside Sakura, crouching low.

“She’s ready,” Hinata said gently.

Sakura gave a short nod, her fingers still tangled in Sasuke’s sleeve. “Karin… whenever you are.”

Without a word, Karin knelt. Her hands trembled slightly as she pushed back her sleeve and pressed her bare wrist to Sasuke’s mouth. She looked away—she always did—and her expression tightened in anticipation of the pain.

Sasuke didn’t move at first. Then, faintly, his lips parted.

A breath passed through the group—tension tightening like a wire.

Karin stiffened, but said nothing. Her body shook slightly, her breathing growing quicker. It hurt. It always did.

But she held steady.

Ino watched her closely, ready to intervene. Hinata’s pale eyes softened, her chakra calm and steady behind them. Sakura’s fingers curled into her palms as she sat frozen beside them.

Naruto stared.

His expression was unreadable. His lips were parted like he wanted to say something—anything—but nothing came. His eyes flicked from Sasuke to Karin, then to the floor.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, color returned to Sasuke’s face. His brow twitched. His chest rose with a deeper breath.

Then—his eyes opened.

Barely.

“…Sakura…?”

The whisper broke her. She let out a breath that had been caught for what felt like hours and leaned in. “I’m here.”

Karin’s shoulders dropped. A quiet, pained exhale left her lips, but she didn’t pull back.

Naruto stepped forward now, hesitating just beside the bed. His voice was quiet, almost unsure.

“...Is he... okay?”

Sasuke blinked slowly, eyes dazed but focused. He was alive. He was awake.

And for the first time since this nightmare began, that meant something.

Naruto looked at Karin.

She still hadn't looked at him. Her face was pale, sweating, breath uneven.

“…Thanks,” he said, his voice stiff, but honest.

Still, she didn’t respond. But she didn’t have to.

Shikamaru watched the scene carefully, his mind ticking. Shino shifted beside him, silent but thoughtful.

Neither of them said a word.

And no one dared to break the quiet that followed.

Because in that moment, they were just a group of exhausted, scared kids who had made it one more day.

And Sasuke was breathing again.

Chapter Text

Naruto felt awful—and relieved all at once.

Sasuke wouldn’t die in this cursed forest. That alone lifted a weight from his chest. But the guilt sat just as heavy. He had insulted Sakura—no, hurt her—without meaning to. His anger had flared too fast, too loud, all in the name of protecting his teammate. But even if the intention was right, the words had been wrong.

And now, he had to make it right.

After Sasuke drifted off to rest, Sakura had quietly excused herself to speak with Hinata. That surprised him more than he expected. He hadn’t realized how close the two girls had become—close enough for shy, soft-spoken Hinata to defend Sakura with a tone that had left everyone stunned.

Still, Naruto knew what he had to do.

Apologize.

To Sakura, to Hinata… and to the red-haired girl who had saved Sasuke’s life.

So when the girls returned, and everyone gathered around the fire, he sat up straighter, waiting for his moment.

Karin sat between Sakura and Ino, her posture withdrawn, guarded. Hinata sat next to them in quiet solidarity. None of them spoke. The silence was so heavy, a kunai could cut through it.

Then Shikamaru exhaled, breaking it.

“Now that things are more or less under control,” he said, tone flat, “we should all get ready to return to the exams. We still have time to pass.”

Everyone gave a silent nod in agreement—except Sasuke, still weak, and Karin, who sat stiffly with her eyes downcast.

But Shikamaru wasn’t finished. He ran a hand through his hair and looked directly at Karin.

“But first, we need to figure out what to do with her.”

He didn’t say her name. He didn’t need to.

Shino’s voice followed. “It would help if she started by telling us the truth.”

Kiba muttered in agreement, Akamaru letting out a low growl beside him.

Karin’s hands tightened in her lap. She looked up slowly, her eyes wide with fear, but not surprise.

“I’m a shinobi from the Village Hidden in the Grass,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper. “My… my kekkei genkai lets me heal people quickly. My team brought me to the exam for that reason. They needed constant healing, and every time they did, they’d bite me to take my chakra.”

A ripple of discomfort passed through the group.

Naruto flinched. The idea alone was enough to make his stomach twist.

“They abandoned me when the monster attacked,” she continued. “You know the rest. I don’t expect you to trust me. If you want to leave me behind, that’s fine. It’s not the worst thing that’s happened to me. Better this than going back to those people.”

Choji leaned forward, concern in his voice. “What do you mean?”

Karin looked up again, and for the first time, her eyes were glassy with held-back tears.

“My mother had the same healing ability. She always said it ran in our clan. But during the Second Great Ninja War, the whole clan was wiped out. She was alone. We traveled for help, and when we reached the Grass Village, they discovered her ability.”

Her voice shook.

“They used her. Drained her of chakra over and over until she couldn’t take it anymore. She died… because she kept healing people who didn’t care if she lived.”

The group went quiet. No one could look her in the eye.

Naruto felt cold all over.

He’d seen cruelty in the shinobi world. But this... this was another level. And she’d lived it. He glanced toward Sasuke, who was watching her intently now, his expression unreadable.

At the mention of a wiped-out clan, Sasuke sat up a little straighter.

“I’ve never heard of a clan with healing abilities like that,” Sasuke said softly, almost to himself.

“Me neither,” Shino added, frowning.

Shikamaru didn’t speak—but Naruto saw the look in his eyes. He was thinking. Hard.

Karin let out a long breath and wiped at her face with the back of her hand. Her voice trembled when she answered.

“My mom said we were from the Uzumaki clan.”

She lowered her head, a soft sob escaping her throat.

Naruto froze.

The name rang in his ears like a bell. His mind went blank.

He could only stare at her—this girl who had saved Sasuke’s life, who had suffered her whole life, who had just whispered the same name that he carried.

“Uzumaki…”

It barely came out of his mouth.

But no one said anything.

Not yet.

Because suddenly, everything felt different.

And no one knew what to do with the silence that followed.

“My mom said we were part of the Uzumaki clan.”

Karin’s voice had barely risen above a whisper, but the effect was instant.

Everyone froze.

No one asked for clarification. No one doubted her.

But Naruto…

He looked like the floor had just dropped out from under him.

Karin had expected skepticism. Or pity. Maybe even annoyance. But not this. Not that look in his eyes—somewhere between shock and something deeper. Something close to grief.

He blinked slowly. “Uzumaki…?”

The name came out of his mouth like he’d never said it before. Like he was tasting it. Testing it.

Karin nodded, more carefully this time. “Yeah. Why? Do you… know it?”

His answer came slow, hesitant.

“I didn’t know there even was an Uzumaki clan.”

A beat passed. And then two.

“…What do you mean?” Karin asked, her voice quieter now. There was something in his tone she couldn’t quite place.

Naruto finally looked up at her. His expression was blank, but his eyes burned.

“I mean I didn’t know I had a clan. I didn’t know Uzumaki was anything more than my last name.”

He scratched the back of his neck, his voice rough. “Nobody told me anything. I grew up in the village… alone. Treated like a curse. I thought I was the only one.”

Karin stared at him, heart thudding.

“Wait,” she breathed. “Are you saying…?”

He nodded, slowly.

“Yeah. I’m Naruto Uzumaki.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

That name—his name—settled between them with a strange, heavy warmth. And for the first time in her life, she didn’t feel like the last thread of something long gone.

Neither of them did.

Naruto gave her a crooked, uncertain smile.

“I guess… that makes us clanmates or something?”

Karin swallowed the lump in her throat.

“…I guess it does.”

They didn’t hug. No dramatic music played. But in that moment, under the flicker of firelight and cautious silence of everyone else, something unspoken passed between them.

Not just blood.

Not just history.

But a beginning.

Shikamaru was done.

Absolutely done.

These Chūnin Exams were more of a nightmare than a test. First, it was nonstop combat for a full twenty-four hours. Then, just when he’d finally pieced together a half-decent strategy, he stumbled on his former classmates — bloodied, exhausted, dragging themselves through the forest.

So, of course, he helped.

Because even if it was a drag, he couldn’t just leave them there.

And now? Now, he was stuck babysitting some red-haired mystery girl who’d just claimed she was from the same clan as Naruto. That alone was a recipe for emotional chaos. Knowing Naruto’s past, Shikamaru could already see the outcome — there was no way the knucklehead was letting her go. Which meant trouble.

More trouble.

But they didn’t have time to waste.

Shikamaru pushed off the cave wall and ran a hand through his hair.

“Well, it’s really sweet that you two found each other,” he said flatly, “but we still have an exam to finish.”

Kiba nodded in agreement. “Shikamaru’s right.”

“Not surprising,” Shino murmured behind him. “He’s usually right.”

“Anyway,” Sasuke said, finally standing — still unsteady, but clear-eyed. “We all have to continue this exam separately. We can’t move as a pack anymore.”

He turned his gaze on Karin, voice neutral but firm. “The only problem is you. We don’t know what to do with you.”

Karin stiffened under the sudden attention. For a second, fear flickered across her face—but then:

“We’ll take her with us,” Sakura declared, voice unwavering.

Sasuke blinked. “We will?”

Naruto practically shouted, “We will?”

Sakura didn’t flinch. “She saved Sasuke’s life. She didn’t have to—but she did. And if she really is from your clan…” she glanced between Karin and Naruto, “…we can’t leave her out here alone. Not after everything.”

Naruto’s grin came fast and full of energy. “Yeah! We will. Let’s do it!”

Sasuke paused, gauging the girl—Karin—then Naruto, and finally Sakura. With a short nod, he relented. “Fine.”

Shikamaru sighed, pulling himself to his feet. “Then that’s settled.”

The others stood as well, dusting themselves off, checking gear, quiet and focused.

“Good luck to all of you,” Shikamaru said, adjusting his pack.

He turned to go, Chōji and Ino falling in behind him.

But just before stepping into the trees, he glanced back over his shoulder. His voice was soft—half a sigh, half a warning.

“See you on the other side.”

Because at this point, that was all they could hope for.

The air was tense. Kiba crouched low beside Akamaru, nostrils flaring. “Two of them. Northwest. Sloppy footwork.”

Shino simply nodded, his insects already scattering beneath the brush.

Hinata whispered, Byakugan active, “One scroll. It’s the one we need.”

No further words.

Kiba and Akamaru charged first, a flurry of movement. A barrage of smoke bombs clouded the clearing.

The enemy team barely had time to react before Shino’s kikaichū erupted from the forest floor, draining chakra on contact.

Hinata slid behind their formation, her strikes soft, fast, decisive—chakra shut off in three clean hits.

It was over in seconds.

Kiba grabbed the scroll. “Told you we’d get it fast.”

Hinata didn’t smile. But her voice was calm. “Let’s go. The tower is close.”

“Trap at your five o’clock,” Shikamaru muttered, watching the shadow of the trap

Ino cast a genjutsu through the trees, making the enemy think they were surrounded. Choji rushed in under the illusion, enlarging mid-leap.

The enemy tried to scatter—right into Shikamaru’s shadow.

“Too easy,” he sighed.

Scroll secured.

“Let’s not waste time,” Ino said. “I don’t want to spend another night here.”

Shikamaru rolled his eyes. “This whole exam is a drag…”

But they moved quickly toward the tower.

Sakura spotted the enemy team first—ambush-ready, hiding near a cliff wall.

She held up a hand, eyes narrowing.

“They’re trying to bait us.”

“I say we go loud,” Naruto whispered, grinning.

Karin stayed close, her chakra sense humming. “The one in the middle’s the leader. His chakra’s flaring in bursts.”

Sasuke took the high ground. “I’ll draw them out. Naruto, you flank. Sakura, stay with Karin.”

The moment Sasuke moved, explosive tags lit the trees—but he was faster.

A kunai from Naruto knocked one enemy back; Sakura disarmed another with precise taijutsu.

One got too close to Karin—and regretted it. Her chakra spiked, a warning. She didn’t need to fight. Just survive.

When it was over, they had the scroll.

Karin exhaled, still panting.

“You okay?” Sakura asked gently.

Karin nodded. “Yeah… Just not used to working with people who cover me.”

Naruto patted her shoulder, smiling. “Get used to it.”

The door to the tower creaked open as Team 8 stepped inside, scrolls in hand. Proctors waved them through with minimal fuss.

Hinata exhaled. Relief.

But someone was already there, leaning against the wall with arms crossed.

Neji Hyūga.

His pale eyes landed on her with indifference—or maybe something colder.

“You’re early,” he said.

“So are you,” she replied, steady but quiet.

Kiba bristled beside her, but Shino put a hand on his shoulder.

Neji didn’t move, didn’t smirk. “Maybe the Hyūga name isn’t completely wasted after all.”

Hinata said nothing. But her hands didn’t tremble.

Just once, she met his gaze. Calm. Unbroken.

Then she turned and walked past him.

Chapter Text

She hated every second of her encounter with Orochimaru.

Just looking at that bastard made her stomach churn—but she wouldn’t let him harm a single genin taking this cursed exam.

Chasing him for five days had drained her to the bone. She’d lost his trail after the second day, yet she chose to remain in this hellish forest. Just in case.

She had considered checking on the girls—or even Neji—but ultimately decided against it. The Chūnin Exams were meant to be a step forward, a test of growth. She couldn’t interfere—not unless there was no other choice.

When the second trial ended, Aria swept through the forest one final time in search of clues about the snake. Nothing. No trace. Just silence, damp leaves, and the unsettling sense that he had slipped through her fingers.

Still, she lingered. Another three hours of fruitless searching.

And then—she felt it.

A chakra signature, familiar and tangled in memory. Once a comrade, now a reminder of darker days. Pain. Betrayal. But not all of it had been poison. There had been moments of laughter. Trust. Silent understanding mid-battle. That bond lingered in spite of everything.

“I must have really worried Hokage-sama if he sent you,” she said without turning.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Kakashi replied lazily, flipping open that ridiculous book. “Bitches like you always die last.”

Aria gave a dry laugh, eyes narrowing. “Still as charming as ever.”

“Hokage-sama is waiting at your house,” Kakashi continued, not looking up. “Also—Hyūga patrol will return to their usual pattern in about an hour. So if you want to avoid being tortured again, I’d pick up the pace.”

“Bearer of good news, as always.”

She started walking away, but then he spoke again—quieter this time.

“They did well.”

Those three words.

Simple. Unexpected.

They tugged at something deep in her chest. A warmth she rarely let herself feel crept into her expression—and for the second time that week, Aria smiled.

Sasuke walked beside Kakashi, each step taking them closer to the arena that would host the next stage of the Chūnin Exams. His wounds had mostly closed, but the ache in his shoulder—the cursed mark—still pulsed like a reminder. A scar burned into his chakra network.

Kakashi, predictably, had his nose buried in that stupid orange book again. But Sasuke had questions. Questions that had been twisting in his head ever since he was pulled out of the forest, half-unconscious and trembling from the aftershocks of whatever he had done to him.

“Kakashi-sensei,” he said, voice low but steady, “the man who attacked us in the forest. The one who marked me. Who was he?”

Kakashi didn’t lift his gaze from the page right away, but the subtle pause before he answered told Sasuke that he wasn’t brushing the question off.

“His name is Orochimaru,” Kakashi said finally. “He’s a missing-nin. Once a shinobi of the Leaf… and one of the Legendary Sannin.”

Sasuke stopped walking.

The words hit him harder than expected.

“…The Sannin?” he repeated. “As in the Sannin? Jiraiya, Tsunade… and Orochimaru?”

“That’s right,” Kakashi said, still thumbing through the book as if talking about the weather. “He was one of them. A genius among geniuses. But also a monster in his own right.”

Sasuke processed that slowly, frowning.

A Sannin. That explained the pressure, the fear that had clawed into his bones even before the man had moved. The idea of learning anything from someone like that was… off the table. For now.

He resumed walking, but his next question came out sharper.

“Then who was the woman?”

Kakashi looked up this time, his lone eye unreadable above the fabric of his mask.

“She’s not someone you need to worry about.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one I’m giving.” Kakashi closed the book with a quiet snap. “She’s not a threat to you, or to anyone in the village. That’s enough.”

“But she fought him,” Sasuke pressed. “She pushed him back.  You know what that means.”

“I do,” Kakashi said simply.

Sasuke narrowed his eyes but didn’t speak again.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, the noise of the arena growing louder ahead. But Sasuke’s thoughts were elsewhere.

Not on Orochimaru.

Not on the other Genin.

But on her.

The woman had moved like wind—silent, fast, precise. Her chakra hadn’t roared like Naruto’s or burned like fire. It had chilled the air. It had commanded.

He didn’t know her name.

He didn’t know her rank.

But someone who could make even Orochimaru retreat… someone that Kakashi was actively avoiding talking about?

That wasn’t nothing.

And maybe—just maybe—she could teach him what Kakashi refused to.

Maybe there was something in her stillness, in her focus, that he could learn from.

Because Sasuke wasn’t done growing stronger.

Not even close.

Hinata regretted many things in her life, and now she could add the incident in the forest with Naruto to the list.

She hadn’t meant to be so harsh—at least not that harsh—but she couldn’t just stand by and listen while they spoke about Sakura like that. Sakura had done her best. She had carried Sasuke, stayed awake all night, tended to wounds, and still managed to think strategically. Dismissing all of that, reducing her efforts to some shallow obsession, wasn’t just disrespectful—it was cruel.

And by default, they had disrespected Ino and her as well. The two of them had stood by Sakura. Together, they had decided to trust Karin, to take a risk when no one else would.

But what hurt the most was that Naruto had said it.

He truly believed Sakura only cared about Sasuke.

If only he knew how wrong he was.

But now wasn’t the time to get lost in thoughts or regrets. Her heart was still heavy, her pride still bruised, but her focus had to sharpen. She had a match to prepare for. A fight that might change everything.

So, she steadied her breathing, pulled her attention back to the present—and looked up just in time to see Sakura and Ino step onto the ring.

The preliminaries had begun.

And the weight in Hinata’s chest shifted—not gone, but buried under the need to be ready.

Fate was a cruel thing.

Just as Sakura had finally begun to mend her relationship with Ino, now they had to face each other in battle—forced to prove themselves in front of everyone in this ridiculous exam. Their friendship, though recently rekindled, was still fragile, and she feared that this fight could crack it once more. After all, the first time they fell apart, it was over a boy.

And yet, Sakura knew she couldn’t hold back. Not this time. She had to give it her all—not just for herself, not just for Ino, but to show everyone, especially Naruto, that she had changed. That she wasn’t just chasing Sasuke anymore. That she was fighting for something real. And Ino—Ino wouldn’t forgive her if she didn’t try her hardest. That was the kind of person she was.

As Sakura stepped into the ring, her heartbeat quickened. Ino stood across from her, fierce and determined, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly in concentration. They were equals now, and they both knew it.

Proctor Hayate coughed quietly as he stepped between them, his voice raspy but firm. “The rules are simple. No killing. Win by knockout, surrender, or if I deem one of you unfit to continue. Begin when I say… ready?”

Sakura opened her mouth, thinking for a second that she might offer Ino a few words of encouragement—something small, something meaningful. But she caught herself. Ino’s pride wouldn’t allow it. They were too alike in some ways. Too different in others.

Hayate raised his hand. “Begin!”

Without hesitation, Sakura launched the first move—a genjutsu. On the surface, it was simple, a trick of shifting light and movement, but beneath it were layered illusions stacked carefully, designed to throw Ino off.

To Sakura’s surprise—and slight admiration—Ino didn’t panic. She noticed the genjutsu quickly. But instead of wasting time trying to break it, she went on the offensive.

“Mind Transfer Jutsu!”

Sakura's body jerked slightly as Ino's chakra surged toward her, but the genjutsu was still intact—just enough to disrupt Ino’s aim. The connection faltered. A near miss. Too close, Sakura thought, heart racing.

The illusion faded, Sakura dissolving it herself now that the surprise had passed. She had no time for tricks anymore.

Kunai flashed through the air as Sakura shifted her stance, moving with calculated precision, her mind fully focused. This wasn’t just a rivalry—it was a statement. A promise that she would no longer be left behind.

Ino landed lightly on her feet, already preparing her next move. “You’ve gotten better, Sakura,” she called across the ring, voice sharp. “But don’t think I haven’t.”

Sakura didn’t respond—her hands were already forming seals.

“Earth Style: Earthen Rise!”

A jagged wall of stone surged upward from the ground between them, forcing Ino to leap back. Dust flew into the air. It was a defensive move, but it bought her time. Her chakra buzzed under her skin—steady, focused. Kakashi’s training echoed in her mind: Root yourself in the earth. Let the strength build from the ground up.

Ino didn’t wait. She darted around the obstacle, faster than Sakura expected, a handful of shuriken already flying toward her. Sakura dropped low and slammed her fist into the earth—crack!—a pulse of chakra-enhanced strength splitting the ground in front of her. Dust and rock erupted, scattering the shuriken midair.

The crowd gasped. Even Naruto stood up slightly straighter, blinking in awe.

Ino grit her teeth. She had expected Sakura to be stronger, but this?

Think. Ino had always relied on precision, not raw power. Her strength was in her mind, her timing. And she still had tricks of her own.

“Let’s try this again,” she muttered and disappeared into the smoke.

Sakura turned, sensing chakra behind her—too slow.

“Mind Body Switch: Flicker!”

It wasn’t a full transfer—just a quick flick of consciousness, a technique she’d been working on in secret. Sakura faltered mid-step as Ino's presence grazed her mind, enough to throw off her balance.

Ino surged in, her kunai aimed for Sakura’s blind spot, but Sakura ducked just in time and twisted.

Crack!

Her elbow, laced with chakra, connected with the wall behind her as Ino flipped away. A crater bloomed where stone once stood.

“You’re really not holding back,” Ino huffed, brushing her hair back and panting slightly.

“You said you wouldn’t forgive me if I didn’t try.” Sakura’s eyes softened just a little. “And I won’t forgive myself either.”

Ino smirked, proud and slightly nostalgic. “Then let’s finish this.”

They clashed again—kunai meeting kunai, feet skimming across the stone floor. Ino slipped through Sakura’s guard again and again, her movement like flowing water. Sakura responded with precision and control, grounding her strength with every blow, slowly learning to predict Ino’s rhythm.

A sudden sweep from Sakura sent Ino tumbling. She caught herself, but when she rose, her arms trembled slightly.

Sakura hesitated.

And in that hesitation, Ino saw something. Compassion. Regret. Guilt.

She could’ve tried again. Pushed forward. But she stepped back.

Hayate stepped in. “That’s enough.”

The room was silent.

“I win,” Sakura said quietly. “But… I withdraw.”

“What?” Naruto half-shouted from the stands.

“I’m not ready. Not yet,” she added. “Not to face the next level.”

Ino’s shoulders sank in relief—and something like pride.

“You idiot,” Ino said, voice low. “You better not quit halfway next time.”

Sakura smiled at her. “I won’t.”

Kurenai was proud — so proud it felt like she had grown wings.

This was her first time as a jōnin sensei, and never in a million years had she imagined the experience to be so rewarding. She had once thought herself too serious, too solitary, too bound to the mission to ever guide someone else. But now, seeing the girl she'd helped shape standing strong before her… this was what triumph felt like. This was the pride of a teacher.

And the cherry on top? The face of Asuma Sarutobi, standing beside her, blowing a slow stream of smoke into the afternoon air.

“Oh, well,” she said with a smug grin, arms folded, “seems I’ve got a truly formidable student.”

“She withdrew,” Asuma replied, trying to sound unimpressed — but the way his eyes followed Sakura betrayed something else.

“Yes, but she still beat Ino before doing so. Maybe if you had trained her more seriously and not just played shogi with Shikamaru all day, she would've won the match outright.”

“Oh, great,” he muttered with mock dread. “Nothing better than getting roasted by my girlfriend.”

“Must be a terrible feeling, good thing I don’t date” came the dry, utterly unwelcome voice of their mutual headache.

Kakashi.

“You again,” Kurenai groaned.

“Only the insane would date you,” Asuma added, flicking ash from his cigarette.

“I’m aware,” Kakashi said, totally unbothered. “But I’m not here to talk about my life choices . I’m here to thank you, Kurenai.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“If you hadn’t spoken to me about her — about Sakura — I wouldn’t have taken her training so seriously.”

“You’re very welcome,” Kurenai said, the warmth in her voice unmistakable.

“Sens—!”

The pink blur nearly knocked them over.

Sakura barreled toward them, cheeks flushed and practically glowing with pride, with a scuffed-up but grinning Ino dragging her feet behind.

“Did I do well?!” Sakura beamed up at Kakashi, eyes sparkling like fireworks.

“You did,” he crouched to her level and gave her a gentle pat on the head. “You’ve grown really strong, Sakura.”

She lit up even more, as if the words had unlocked something deep inside her.

Then, without hesitation, she ran straight into Kurenai’s arms, hugging her tight.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For talking to Kakashi-sensei.”

“No,” Kurenai murmured, hugging her back. “Thank you, Sakura — for being so wonderful.”

There was a pause, then Sakura’s voice again, softer this time.

“But… sensei, could you maybe help Ino too? With her training?”

“Hey!” Ino snapped, a blush rising to her cheeks. “Don’t talk on my behalf—”

But then she looked up at Kurenai, determined.

“…Would you mind if I joined your training? Sometimes?”

Kurenai smiled and glanced at Asuma, who nodded with a sigh.

“You’re welcome anytime,” she said warmly.

“Oh, just wait,” Ino smirked, flipping her hair. “Soon I’ll be even better than you, Forehead.”

“Keep dreaming, Ino-pig,” Sakura shot back, grinning. Their playful argument faded as the next match was announced:

"Next match: Uzumaki Naruto vs. Inuzuka Kiba."

Kurenai stiffened. “Here we go.”

She had high hopes for Kiba. He was fast, feral, and sharp in close quarters — and he had Akamaru, who was practically a second set of claws.

“This one’s ours,” she muttered confidently.

“Don’t be so sure,” Asuma drawled, crossing his arms. “That Naruto kid’s got more in him than people give him credit for.”

Kurenai just scoffed. “Kiba’s better trained. He’s faster. Stronger. Smarter.”

“Sure,” Asuma shrugged, grinning now. “But that kid has the kind of dumb luck that rewrites fate.”

They watched the match unfold — Kiba starting strong with overwhelming speed and sharp, coordinated strikes, using Akamaru flawlessly. The first half of the match looked like a clean win for him.

Kurenai couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at her lips.

But then Naruto… changed.

A cloud of smoke, a sudden substitution, and then — that bizarre transformation. His chakra flared in an erratic but raw burst of power. He tricked Kiba, slammed him hard, and even countered his signature attacks.

Kurenai’s confident expression faltered.

Asuma chuckled, nudging her side. “Still think it’s a clean sweep?”

She glared at him. “Don’t push it.”

By the time Naruto landed the final blow — leaving Kiba stunned, confused, and pinned to the arena floor — Kurenai let out a long breath. Her pride was intact… but bruised.

“I’m still proud of him,” she muttered, arms folded tight.

“I know,” Asuma said, blowing another puff of smoke. “And you should be.”

Before she could say more, the next announcement hit like a thunderclap through the arena.

“Next up: Hyūga Hinata vs. Hyūga Neji.”

Kurenai’s stomach dropped. The joy in her chest dimmed instantly.

It was always going to happen, she thought. But I didn’t expect it this soon.

She looked down at the arena, already seeing Hinata step forward — composed, quiet, and far stronger than when she first entered this exam.

But would that be enough?

She didn’t know.

But she did know this: no matter the outcome, her student would not face this battle alone.

Hinata was shaking.

Not just from fear, but from the weight she felt pressing down on her chest — the heaviness of knowing she was about to fight someone important to her.

She hated it. She hated that it had come to this. But she had known, deep down, that one day she would have to face Neji.

She only wished she had more time. More training. More strength.

Still, she couldn’t run from it.

She had made a promise.

To herself.

To Aria.

And quietly, even to her clan — that she would change things. That she would stand up, no matter what it cost.

So, with the little determination she had, she stepped into the arena.

She tried to hold her head high, but the pressure was crushing.

Still, her breathing stayed steady — flowing calmly like water , just like Aria had taught her.

When she reached the center, her eyes lifted to Neji’s. They were just like hers, yet full of something she never wanted to carry — anger and hatred.

She saw his forehead protector, and even though it covered the seal, she knew exactly what was underneath.

And that was all the reminder she needed.

What she was doing — all of this — it was worth it.

Neji’s voice came sharp.

“It’s better if you just withdraw from the match,” he said, cool and condescending.

“We both know you won’t win.”

Hinata swallowed.

“You’re right… the chances of me winning are low. But I won’t give up. I’ve realized my purpose — and I’ll do everything I can to reach it. Even if I have to die.”

Neji scoffed, voice colder now.

“You really think you can do something? That you’re strong enough to change anything? Your fate has already been decided — you’ll always be weak.”

Hinata’s fingers clenched.

“No one decides my life except me. Fate doesn’t matter.”

Neji stepped forward, tone sharper.

“You’ll regret this.”

Hinata took a breath.

“No, I won’t.”

Then, without another word, they activated their Byakugan — veins spreading around their eyes. In perfect sync, their palms shot forward.

And when their strikes collided — chakra against chakra — the impact rang out across the stadium.

The match had begun.

And neither of them would back down.

Chapter Text

Hiashi stood over the arena with a stern expression, arms folded, eyes unmoving.

He had known this day would come — and he had known, too, that the clan elders would use it against him.

Hinata’s chances of defeating Neji were slim to none.

Neji was a genius. Everyone knew that, and even if Hiashi had pretended not to notice it before, it was nearly impossible now.

His technique was flawless. His composure unwavering.

In another life, he would have made a perfect heir.

Sometimes Hiashi allowed himself to wonder what it might have been like — if Neji had been born to him.

Would everything have been easier? Would the clan be stronger?

But that was a dream he had no right to chase.

He loved his daughters. Truly.

And yet he had no choice but to be strict with them.

Hanabi lacked Neji’s genius, but she had fire in her heart. She never turned away from conflict.

Hinata… Hinata had always been different. Gentle. Quiet. Peaceful. She was not a warrior by nature, nor did she carry the edge expected of a clan heir.

He had told himself for years that she wasn’t suited to lead. That she couldn’t endure the burden.

But even so, he could never bring himself to cast her aside — and he never considered marking her.

He knew the weight of that seal. The cruelty behind it.

But it wasn’t until Hanabi was born, when he was forced to truly face what their traditions demanded, that the truth struck him like a blade.

He had watched his brother’s life twist under that weight. He had seen the hatred in Hizashi’s eyes the day Neji was branded.

Hiashi had said nothing. Had done nothing.

And when his brother died — sacrificed himself in Hiashi’s place — he had promised that it wouldn’t be in vain.

That he would do something. That change would come.

But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Or maybe… he just wouldn’t.

And now, as he looked down at the reality his cowardice had helped create — two children of the same bloodline, forced to face each other under the crushing gaze of their clan — he couldn’t help but feel the deep ache of regret.

He had failed his brother.

He had failed his family.

And mostly, he had failed his daughter.

But maybe… just maybe… if there was still a chance for peace — for change — it would come from them.

From Hinata and Neji.

And he would watch.

He had to.

The calm demeanor his cousin displayed only deepened the storm within Neji.

They had been exchanging blows for several minutes. Their bodies bore the signs of it — sweat, bruises, staggered breath. But still… Hinata stood.

Calm. Composed.

She fought with something deeper than desperation — something steady and silent. It wasn’t fear or pride. It was resolve.

And it infuriated him.

She was supposed to fall.

She was supposed to realize the truth.

“I am stronger than you,” he muttered under his breath, voice tightening with restrained fury. “Everyone knows it.”

He surged forward again, fists crackling with chakra. But Hinata blocked him. Again. And again. Until —

A hit.

Sharp pain. His ribs. Her fingers had broken through.

Neji’s eyes widened as he stumbled back, clutching the stuttering pulse of his chakra.

She had landed a perfect Gentle Fist strike.

That technique… She could never do it before.

Then the voices — from the stands, soft but cutting.

“I mean, after all, he’s just a Branch member. Even if he’s a genius, he’ll never stand above someone from the Main House.”

His hands trembled.

That was it.

That was the truth.

It didn’t matter what he achieved.

It didn’t matter how strong he became.

His fate was already decided — sealed into his flesh by the cursed mark he hid beneath his headband.

And Hinata… she was the one they still called heiress.

She, who had been weak her whole life.

She, who had turned her back on the role she was born to uphold — and yet still held the title he had never been allowed to dream of.

"You don’t get it," he whispered, then louder, seething. "You don't understand the burden of the Branch House. Of serving a clan that sees you as expendable."

He looked up, rage and desperation carved into his face.

“I will fight until you break, Hinata. Not because I hate you. But because you need to see the truth. You are not suited to lead this clan. You are not strong enough. And deep down, you know it."

His eyes locked with hers, voice rising:

"Accept your place. Accept your fate. That is what this fight is for."

Hinata stood still, bruised and breathless — but her hands didn’t fall. Her knees didn’t buckle.

That only made it worse.

If she wouldn’t submit… then he would force her to.

Even if it meant dying here.

Even if it meant dragging her down with him.

The heat of the arena blurred for a moment, overtaken by the cold clarity of memory.

She remembered the taste of blood in her mouth. The crushing ache in her shoulders. The sharp snap of her breath freezing in her chest as she hit the ground—again.

She had thought she couldn’t move.

That maybe this time, she really couldn’t get back up.

But then she heard Aria’s voice again—calm, flat, unrelenting:

“If you can’t rise now, then how will you rise against centuries of tradition?”

In that clearing outside the village walls, her limbs bruised and skin drenched in sweat, Sakura had spoken first, worry lacing her voice.

“She’s barely standing, Aria-san. She needs to rest.”

And Kurenai—her gentle, steady sensei—had placed a firm hand on Aria’s shoulder.

“You’re pushing her too hard. She’s not ready.”

Aria had looked between the two  with her usual unreadable expression. Her voice, when it came, was as quiet as falling snow—but no less sharp.

“If she truly wants to change the Hyūga clan, then she must be more than ready. She must be unwavering.”

Hinata hadn’t said a word then. She had only lifted herself from the ground with shaking arms and burning lungs.

And now, as she stood against Neji—his voice drenched in scorn, his strikes designed to dismantle not just her body but her resolve—she understood what Aria had meant.

Neji wasn’t just angry. He was grieving.

Grieving a father who died protecting the traditions of a clan that never loved him in return.

And she realized something else, something bitter and sharp like broken glass:

if someone had spoken out sooner—maybe Uncle Hizashi wouldn't have had to die.

Maybe Neji wouldn't carry this weight.

Maybe he wouldn’t look at her with such rage, such resentment.

He believes fate killed his father… and now he wants me to submit to it, too.

But she wouldn’t.

Because her silence had already cost too much.

Because she owed it to the clan, her Uncle —and to Neji—to fight for something different.

Naruto stood stiffly by the railing, fists clenched at his sides. His jaw was tight, his eyes locked on the center of the arena below.

Hinata and Neji were already exchanging blows—swift, sharp, and silent. Unlike the other fights, there was no shouting, no showmanship. Just two Hyūga… fighting like ghosts.

Kiba had gone quiet after muttering something about not wanting to watch, and Sakura was still in shock  . Everyone felt tense, but Naruto didn’t move.

He didn’t even blink.

Shikamaru stepped up beside him, hands shoved lazily into his pockets, but his face was unusually serious.

“They’re faster than I thought,” Shikamaru muttered.

Naruto grunted. “What are they even doing? All I see are palm strikes and bursts of chakra.”

Shikamaru sighed. “That’s because you don’t know how the Byakugan works. They’re using Gentle Fist—the Hyūga clan’s style. Every hit shuts down chakra points instead of causing surface damage.”

Naruto blinked. “So they’re… hurting each other from the inside?”

“Exactly.”

Naruto turned back to the fight, just as Hinata stepped back and inhaled sharply. Her right arm extended with precision—her stance steadier than he’d ever seen.

Then she launched it forward.

A burst of chakra—thin but sharp—exploded through the air, racing toward Neji.

Naruto flinched. “What the—?!”

“That’s Kūshō—Air Palm,” Shikamaru said flatly. “That technique takes insane chakra control. I didn’t know Hinata could do it.”

“She never showed anything like that in training…”

“She’s been training. A lot.  Compared to you, I bet.”

Neji’s body moved suddenly—he spun in place, releasing chakra from every pore. The swirling dome around him erupted violently as he met the Air Palm head-on.

Naruto shielded his eyes from the dust. “What the hell was that?!”

“That’s… a version of Rotation, I think. It seems he’s been developing it himself.”

“Rotation?”

“Defensive jutsu. Full body. Only main branch members usually learn it, but Neji’s a genius. He must’ve figured it out on his own.”

Naruto swallowed. “So… she’s using forbidden techniques, and he’s copying ones he was never taught?”

“More or less.” Shikamaru's voice dropped lower. “This fight isn’t just about the exam. It’s personal.”

Naruto glanced back down at Hinata—scratched, bloodied, breathing hard—but still standing tall.

“She’s fighting like she’s got something to prove…”

“She does,” Shikamaru murmured. “To everyone.”

The arena was deathly silent. Every blow echoed like thunder, every breath from the two Hyūga was sharp, ragged—each movement carved from raw willpower.

Their clothes were torn. Blood trickled from both of them—cheeks, lips, knuckles. Their chakra reserves were running dangerously low. But neither of them stopped.

Not even when they should have.

Hinata stumbled forward, her hand clutching her side. A deep bruise had started to bloom there from Neji’s last strike. But her eyes—Byakugan wide open—were still burning with resolve.

Neji panted across from her, one leg trembling. Sweat mixed with blood down his temple. His own ribs were fractured from her earlier Gentle Fist to the side, and part of his vision had blurred from her Air Palm.

And yet…

“You still… won’t accept it?” he rasped.

“I never… will,” Hinata breathed, her voice like steel through shattered glass. “Fate is what cowards… cling to… when they fear change.”

“Then die with your delusion.”

They both moved at the same time.

Neji twisted his body into a perfect arc, his palm glowing with deadly chakra. Hinata mirrored the motion, stepping with her left foot, drawing power from the soles of her feet to the very tip of her fingers.

Two strikes met.

Two hearts nearly stopped.

The force sent them both flying backward.

Hinata hit the ground hard. Her eyes lost focus for a moment—her lungs screamed for air—but she had nothing left. Her fingers twitched. She tried to push herself up.

Neji was on one knee, barely upright, swaying like a leaf in the wind. Blood dripped from his mouth. One more breath, one more second, and his body would betray him too.

But he stayed up—just a little longer than she could.

Hayate moved immediately.

“The match is over! Winner—Hyūga Neji by incapacitation!”

Kurenai jumped from the stands, her voice sharp with panic. Hiashi was already halfway down the stairs. Medical-nin rushed in.

Sakura was shouting something. Naruto was pale, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white.

And Neji… Neji finally collapsed.

Not in triumph.

But in quiet agony.

The sight before him was terrifying.

Two children — no, not just any children — two Hyūga children had tried to kill each other. Blood stained the arena floor like spilled ink, their limbs twisted, bodies trembling, breaths shallow… if they came at all.

As soon as the match was called, medical-nin descended like hawks. Barked orders filled the silence that followed the chaos.

“Get a stretcher now!”

“She’s not breathing!”

“Punctured lung on the boy! Keep pressure on his chest!”

“Her chakra system’s collapsing—get me a seal specialist now!”

“Move, move—if you don’t clear this path, she’ll die!”

Hiashi didn’t remember when he started running, only that his legs moved of their own accord — after them, after his children.

Because that’s what they were.

Not just his daughter and his brother’s son. His responsibility.

And now they were bleeding out in front of his eyes.

Hinata’s heart had stopped for a moment in the arena — he saw it, with his eyes, the shaking hands as chakra was poured into her chest, the jolt to bring her back.

Neji was worse — one medic shouted that his lung had collapsed, and he was choking on his own blood. His lips had turned faintly blue before they stabilized him.

The corridor to the hospital was a blur — the rush, the flashing lights of healing jutsu, the smell of burnt chakra and blood that soaked the air. The medical staff screamed at one another over vitals, over supplies, over not letting either one die.

When they reached the doors of the emergency wing, Hiashi tried to follow.

He made it two steps past the threshold.

“Get out!” a medic barked, pushing him back with a hand drenched in Hinata’s blood. “You’re not helping anyone—stand back!”

Hiashi froze. The sliding doors slammed shut in front of him.

He stood there, hands trembling. The metallic scent of blood clung to his robes. Something wet had stained his sleeve, and he realized — it wasn’t his.

Hinata’s blood… or Neji’s?

He didn’t know.

He sank onto the bench outside the ER, unable to breathe properly. Every second was a hammer to his chest. Every time the doors opened, he flinched. But it was never a nurse with an update.

Only more chaos.

And then came the coldest part of the nightmare.

A shadow fell over him — no, three shadows. Their steps were slow. Calculated. Their white robes whispered like death.

The Hyūga Elders had arrived.

Their expressions were unreadable, their eyes full of silent judgment as they stared down at Hiashi — as if he were not a clan head, but a failure.

And for once, Hiashi couldn’t find it in himself to deny it.

Chapter Text

“The system in the Hyūga clan was built on fear and status,” Hanako said quietly.

“That much was never a secret. The main branch claimed it was meant to protect the Byakugan—but those who truly understood, never believed such nonsense. Yes, the seal prevents the Byakugan from falling into enemy hands, but beyond that… it serves no real purpose. At least, that was the case at first. But one small mistake changed everything. That’s how the seal came to be.”

She sighed after the long explanation she had given young Aria. Yet somehow, the weight in her chest remained.

Aria, barely seven, was a curious child—always eager to learn, especially about her clan. But few ever spoke openly about the system that had been built in the name of protecting the Byakugan. Most didn’t dare.

“And?”

Aria looked up at her from her lap, brows furrowed in frustration. “You’re not going to tell me what the mistake was? Or who made it?”

She crossed her arms. “And how do you even know what you’re saying is true? No one else says any of this… if they even talk about it at all.”

Hanako‘s expression softened. “Listen closely, Aria. Every branch family member knows the curse mark exists for one reason only: to keep the main house in control.”

She placed a gentle hand on the child’s head.

“And because you and I are main branch, no one expects us to question it. We’re supposed to feel superior. But we must never see people as our pawns. If there's even an ounce of humanity in us, then we will never need to use that seal at all.”

Fifteen-year-old Hiashi stood silently nearby, having overheard every word.

It was the first time he had ever heard anyone speak about the clan like this—so openly, so critically. And like every Hyūga heir before him, he chose to remain silent. To ignore it.

After all, the strength and protection of the clan—and the village—came first.

One day, he told himself, the foolish would come to understand.

But instead...

Came the day he realized—

the foolish one was him.

As the three elders stood before him, the smug expressions on their prideful faces told him all he needed to know.

“We heard about the match between Neji and Hinata,” Hikari—the most loathsome of them all—exclaimed.

“To be frank, I never believed Hinata was anything more than a beautiful girl we could use for political marriage,” he continued with a sneer. “But I, along with every member of the council, was shocked by how well she fought. Perhaps she might even win against Hanabi and retain her title.”

Hearing them speak of his daughter as nothing more than a political tool made Hiashi’s blood boil. But what came next shook him to his core.

“But we must also discuss what to do with Neji,” Hikari added casually.

The moment his nephew’s name was spoken, Hiashi knew exactly where this was heading.

“Even if it was the Chūnin Exam, he still tried to kill the heir of the clan. Disciplinary action must be taken.”

The weight of their intent struck him like a bolt of lightning.

Neji—brilliant, exceptional, a once-in-a-generation genius—was born into the side branch. That fact alone made him dangerous in their eyes. Dangerous enough to rally the side branch against the main family. These old monsters had made up their minds. They didn’t want to punish Neji—they wanted to eliminate him.

But that was a line Hiashi would never cross.

His brother had died in his place. Now they expected him to repay that debt by killing Hizashi’s only son?

Never. Not while he still drew breath.

“This is not the place to discuss such matters,” Hiashi said firmly, his voice steady despite the storm inside him.

And then came a presence far worse than the elders themselves. The devil in the shadows.

Danzo Shimura.

“Greetings, Danzo-sama,” Hikari was the first to bow, ever the sycophant eager to please.

“I only came by after hearing about the match between the children,” Danzo said, his voice a calm, calculated whisper. “I wanted to ensure they were doing better. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

He turned and left without waiting for a response. The elders followed silently, as if they knew he would appear and had been waiting for him.

But his appearance made everything crystal clear.

The elders wanted Neji dead.

Danzo wanted him used.

He saw Neji’s talent, and he would never allow it to go to waste. Just like every other tool in his collection.

Hiashi clenched his fists.

If they wanted Neji, they would have to go through him first.

The sterile air of the hospital burned in Hiashi’s lungs as he stood in the hallway outside the emergency room. Blood still stained his cuffs—his daughter’s blood. The silence was broken only by the rhythmic beeping of machines behind the doors. A sound more terrifying than any scream.

He hadn’t moved since the medics carried Hinata in.

Her heart had stopped.

Neji’s lungs had collapsed.

And Hizashi... Hizashi had died years ago, but in that moment, Hiashi felt as though he’d lost him all over again.

Footsteps echoed in the corridor. A small figure with soft brown hair and wide, frightened eyes appeared from around the corner—Hanabi, clutching the hand of her caretaker, Natsu.

“Hiashi-sama...” Natsu bowed, her voice soft, unsure.

Hanabi tugged at her hand and stared up at her father, her face pale. “Where’s Hinata-nee-sama?”

Hiashi swallowed hard, kneeling to meet her eyes. “She’s fighting very hard right now.”

“Did she lose?” Hanabi’s voice was quiet, trembling.

Hiashi hesitated. “No. She didn’t lose.”

The answer satisfied Hanabi for now, but the weight of its truth sat heavily on his chest. Hinata hadn’t lost—but she had almost died. And Neji, his nephew, his brother’s only child... he had stood just a little longer, but at what cost?

Behind him, the doors opened—and two familiar figures stepped in from the other side of the hall.

Kurenai Yuhi and Might Guy.

Neither spoke.

Their gazes found Hiashi, and in that moment, he saw what words could never express. Disbelief. Disappointment. Fury.

Not at the children.

At him.

Hiashi straightened, setting his jaw, but their silence cut deeper than any blade. Kurenai’s red eyes narrowed slightly, then flickered to Hanabi. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was low and biting.

“They’re just children.”

Hiashi said nothing.

Guy folded his arms. “No child should be forced to carry the weight of a clan’s pride.”

Still, Hiashi offered no defense. He had none. His daughter had nearly died before his eyes. His nephew might never breathe without pain again. The elders were circling like vultures, ready to devour what was left of Hizashi’s legacy. And Danzo… Danzo was watching, always watching.

Natsu gently led Hanabi away as the tension hung heavy in the air.

Hiashi remained rooted to the spot, alone again. A clan head. A father. A brother.

A man trying not to drown in his own silence.

The hallway outside the hospital room was too still. The air, heavy with antiseptic and grief, pressed down on the group of genin gathered there—each one quiet, each one shaken in their own way.

Through the glass pane, they could see Rock Lee, unconscious and unmoving. His injuries were beyond severe—shattered bones, torn ligaments, internal trauma. The kind of damage that changed lives.

Gai had not left his side.

For once, Naruto didn’t speak. He didn’t clench his fists. He didn’t shout about becoming Hokage. He just stood there with his hands in his pockets, lips pressed into a tight line, eyes locked on Lee with an unreadable expression. Anger and helplessness flickered in his gaze, but it was muted—held back by something heavier than words.

They moved on.

The next room was no better.

Two beds—two bodies.

Neji, unmoving. Still breathing, but barely. The injuries on his body—burns, bruises, deep chakra trauma—spoke of a battle pushed too far.

Hinata, barely conscious. Her skin was deathly pale, and the machines monitoring her pulse beeped at a sluggish, uncertain rhythm. Her hair clung to her face in damp strands. Her lips moved occasionally, like she was whispering something, but no sound came out.

Blood had dried in the folds of her hospital gown, and more of it stained the long white robes of the man standing at the foot of her bed.

Hiashi Hyūga.

His back was straight. His hands folded neatly behind him. He hadn’t bothered to change, as if he didn’t care—or didn’t feel—how grotesque the blood on him looked. His daughter’s blood. His nephew’s. All soaking into the expensive silk he wore like armor.Tenten stood near Neji’s bedside, frozen and unreadable. Her eyes didn’t move from him. Her jaw was locked. Fury radiated off her, but she said nothing.

The others stepped in slowly. Shikamaru, unusually tense. Choji, unsure where to look. Ino, hand to her mouth. Even Kiba and Shino fell quiet as they took in the sight.

It was Sakura who moved first.

She stepped past them all—past Hinata, past Neji—and stood directly in front of Hiashi.

“You knew this would happen,” she said. Her voice was low, but sharp. “You set them up to destroy each other.”

Hiashi didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

“You’re the head of the Hyūga clan. You’re supposed to protect them. You’re supposed to protect her.”

Still nothing.

“She didn’t want to fight him.  He wanted to kill her. And you let him.”

Silence.

“It’s not about honor,” Sakura went on, louder now. “It’s not about duty. This is about fear. Control. You didn’t see two children—you saw pawns. Neji is the way he is because of you. And Hinata…” Her voice cracked for a moment, then steadied. “She nearly died to prove her worth.”

At last, Hiashi turned his head slightly. Not enough to face her. Just enough to acknowledge her words.

And that made it worse.

“You watched him crush her body,” Sakura said, her voice now trembling with fury. “You didn’t stop him. You didn’t move. That makes this your fault. All of it.”

Behind her, Naruto finally looked up. His gaze didn’t go to Sakura or Hiashi. It stayed fixed on Hinata, and his fists clenched—not in rage, but in something quieter. Something deeper. There was no shouting. No bravado. Just silence, heavy and sharp.

Sakura turned. Her hands were shaking. Her throat burned.

She couldn’t stay there. Not another second.

She pushed past the others, out into the hallway. Her footsteps echoed like hammer blows.

“Sakura!” Ino called after her, darting forward. “Wait—where are you going?!”

Sakura didn’t stop. She didn’t answer.

Ino followed her into the hallway, breath catching as she tried to keep up.

“Sakura! What are you doing?! You can’t just leave like that!”

But Sakura didn’t slow down. She kept walking—eyes straight ahead, fists clenched at her sides. There was only one place she could go. Only one person who would understand. Someone no one else even knew existed.

 After delivering her report about Orochimaru to the Hokage, Aria checked the sun’s position with practiced eyes. She had about fifteen minutes before the Hyūga clan renewed their patrol routes around the outskirts. That was all the time she needed.

She slipped through the forest like a shadow and disappeared into the old, hidden path that led to her modest home just outside the village.

The first thing she did after arriving was peel off her gear and head for the shower. The water poured down in silence, washing away the grime of movement, tension, and memory. She stayed under the stream long enough for her skin to wrinkle. It felt like the only place she could breathe.

When she stepped out, she wrapped herself in the black robes—ones Hanako had once sent her in secret. Not because they were clan-approved, Hanako just thought they looked stunning on her. Aria would never have worn them inside the compound, not even while Hanako was alive. But here, away from all those eyes and rules, she wore them freely.

She sat down in front of her small mirror and began to brush her long hair, which had grown past her waist. It got in the way during training, but Hanako used to brush it every evening. Aria kept it long for that reason—perhaps foolish sentiment, but she clung to it.

These past few days had been the most physically active she’d been in years. Training the girls had helped her shake off the stiffness that isolation had buried in her joints. When Kakashi told her the outcome of the Forest of Death, she had felt a strange calm settle in her heart. The children had made it. The worst was over.

But she had been wrong.

She never calculated the sheer depth of hatred Neji harbored. All her experience and all her intuition failed her—and it had cost both Hinata and Neji dearly.

When Sakura burst into her clearing hours ago, tearful and trembling, Aria was scared to confront Sakuras emotions , since she had spent too much time in isolation. But the raw emotion in the girl's eyes... it struck something in her. Something she hadn’t felt in years.

Sakura looked like her younger self—back when she too had watched her clan devour itself for the sake of pride and power.

Now they sat across from one another in the quiet of Aria’s shed, steam curling from the cups of calming tea between them.

“I just don’t get it! How can family members be so cruel to each other?” Sakura’s voice cracked as her anger fizzled out into exhaustion.

“The clan can barely be considered a family,” Aria said, her voice calm but laced with bitterness. “We are united by blood and tradition, nothing more. True family bonds are rare. Even the Uchiha were the same.”

Sakura lowered her eyes, murmuring, “Wow… I complain about my parents sometimes, but moments like this—I'm really grateful I come from a civilian home.”

Trying to shift the weight in the air, Aria added, “Why don’t you tell me about your match? What was her name again?”

“Ino-pig,” Sakura muttered automatically. Then, catching Aria’s raised brow, she amended, “Okay, her name is Ino. She actually ran after me when I left the hospital—”

Her eyes widened. “Wait. You don’t think she followed me here, do you?! I didn’t even think about that—ugh, I was just so angry, I wasn’t thinking at all and—”

A small, surprising chuckle escaped Aria’s lips. Sakura blinked. She hadn’t expected that.

“Don’t worry. It sounds like you trust her. From the stories I can understand that  Hinata is fond of her too, so I won’t mind if she finds me.”

“I’m still sorry. I should’ve been more careful.”

“Well, if saying sorry makes you feel better, I’ll accept your apology.”

Sakura smiled faintly.

But before she could respond, her shoulders stiffened at the sudden shift of chakra outside. Aria noticed it, too.

There was a knock.

Aria stood without a word and opened the door.

Kakashi stood there, still half-hidden in the shadow of the trees, one hand resting lazily in his pocket—though Aria could tell he was on high alert.

“Sensei?” Sakura asked, eyes wide. Her face still carried the traces of her tears.

“Ino told me you ran off,” Kakashi replied calmly. “She couldn’t find you. So, she asked me to look.”

Sakura groaned. “Ugh… I made her worry. Great, now I’ll have to deal with one of her guilt-tripping lectures.”

Kakashi tilted his head. “Then we should head back before she sends the whole village after you.”

Sakura got up and moved beside him, but just before they stepped out, Aria’s voice cut through the air.

“Sakura,” she said, voice firm. “Would you give us a moment?”

It wasn’t really a request.

Sakura obeyed and stepped outside, eyes still lingering curiously on them.

Inside, Kakashi turned to Aria, gaze steady.

“I know it might be a lot to ask,” she began, “but if you can… tell Hiashi to come see me. As soon as he can. We need to talk.”

Kakashi nodded. “I’ll deliver the message.”

He turned and opened the door—

Only for Sakura to tumble through it with a guilty yelp.

It took her a moment to realize what had happened. Her eyes darted up to Aria, cheeks red with embarrassment.

“ I did not knew that there’s a sound barrier ” she squeaked.

Aria couldn’t help it—she chuckled again. Twice in one day. It was unusual. But strangely welcome.

Even in the middle of all this pain… she was grateful for her students. Grateful for this tiny spark of warmth.

Chapter Text

Walking back to the village with Kakashi-sensei after her talk with Aria made Sakura feel even more anxious and embarrassed. Yelling at the head of the Hyūga clan, running away, putting Aria’s hideout in danger, trying to eavesdrop on a conversation without knowing there was a sound barrier—

She winced at the memory.

But now wasn’t the time to dwell on any of that. The most important thing was Hinata’s situation. And whatever Kakashi and Aria had talked about… it had to be related to the Hyūga clan.

As she and her sensei turned the corner near her house, Sakura gathered her courage. She was just about to ask about Aria’s request when a mysterious presence stopped her in her tracks.

She’d heard about them—everyone in the village had—but only those entrusted with high-level missions ever truly saw them.

The ANBU.

Dressed in sleek black gear, masks concealing their faces, they were the most elite shinobi in all of Konoha. Before she could fully grasp what was happening, one of the masked figures spoke in a calm, emotionless voice:

“Kakashi Hatake and Sakura Haruno. The Hokage wishes to see you both. Immediately.”

With the message delivered, the figure vanished into thin air.

Sakura looked up at her sensei, expecting some sort of explanation—but none came. Without a word, Kakashi leapt onto the rooftop of the nearby building and took off toward the Hokage Tower.

All Sakura could do was run after him.

She opened the door to the Hokage’s office with hesitation, unsure of what—or who—awaited her on the other side.

But as she stepped inside, relief swept through her. The familiar face of the Third Hokage greeted her, the same one carved into the mountain and etched into her memory. More surprisingly, Naruto, Sasuke, and the rest of her classmates were also gathered inside, each accompanied by their respective sensei. The sight calmed her—if so many genin were present, it couldn’t be anything too dangerous. Even the Hokage’s expression wasn’t overly stern, which allowed her to relax just a little.

“I see everyone is here,” the Hokage said, voice calm but commanding. “So let’s begin.”

The room, already quiet, seemed to freeze—so still you could hear a pin drop.

“First of all, I want to congratulate each and every one of you for passing the second phase of the Chūnin Exams. And to those who advanced even further, well done.”

He gave them a moment before continuing, his tone shifting.

“But that’s not the only reason I’ve called you here. This is about your encounter in the forest—with someone dangerous.”

Whispers and glances passed among the genin, but no one dared speak aloud.

“The man you encountered is one of the most powerful shinobi ever to come from Konoha. His name is Orochimaru—one of the Legendary Sannin. But he betrayed this village and now aims to shake its very foundation.”

Gasps broke the silence. Sakura’s heart clenched. She already knew, but hearing it again made it feel heavier.

“But,” the Hokage added firmly, “I want to assure each and every one of you—I will not let him succeed.”

Shikamaru casually raised his hand. “So… does that mean the final round of the Chūnin Exams is canceled?”

“No, Shikamaru,” the Hokage replied. “The exams will proceed as scheduled. The final stage will take place in one month. In the meantime, I will ensure Orochimaru is dealt with.”

“Understood, Hokage-sama,” Shikamaru responded, settling back into his slouch.

“Now that we’ve addressed that, there’s another matter—the girl you encountered in the forest.”

At the mention of her, Naruto’s head snapped up.

“She’s currently with the Interrogation Unit,” the Hokage stated. Both Sakura and Naruto visibly flinched.

“She confirmed she was part of the Grass team but also revealed something else. Orochimaru had made contact with her. He’s conspiring with forces outside our village and apparently tried to recruit her—unsurprising, considering her abilities.”

“We also conducted a DNA test to confirm her origin.”

At that, Naruto’s emotions exploded.

“You did what? What did it say, huh?! Old man—answer me!”

“Oi, relax, you idiot,” Sasuke snapped, though even he sounded unsure. Before the situation escalated, Kakashi’s hand clamped over Naruto’s mouth.

It was understandable. Naruto had been unusually quiet since the preliminary matches—far too quiet for someone normally so loud. Something had been brewing under the surface, and now it was erupting.

“The test confirmed what we suspected,” the Hokage said calmly. “She is a member of the Uzumaki clan. Her hair, her chakra—it all matched. But we needed absolute certainty.”

Naruto bit Kakashi’s hand and practically leapt onto the Hokage’s desk.

“Then why didn’t you ever tell me I had a clan?!”

“Because the Uzumaki clan was wiped out long before you were born,” the Hokage replied, his voice tinged with sorrow. “Only a few survivors remain, scattered across the world. I didn’t want to raise your hopes with something so uncertain.”

“What’s going to happen to her now?” Ino asked, her hand timidly raised.

“She’ll remain in the village. Given her potential connection to Orochimaru, she’ll stay under supervision—with Anko Mitarashi.”

“Wait… you mean that crazy woman from the exams?” Sakura asked, her voice filled with concern.

“Yes, her. Anko is one of the few who can truly understand what the girl is going through. She’ll be a fitting guardian for now. And don’t worry—after a month of supervised recovery, the girl will be allowed to move freely around the village. You may visit her during that time.”

“Any further questions?”

A brief silence, then the collective voices of the teachers rang out:

“No, Hokage-sama.”

“Then you’re all dismissed. Except for Sakura—and the instructors.”

The moment her name was called, Sakura’s stomach twisted. She knew exactly why she was being held back: her behavior after Hinata’s match, and her confrontation with Hiashi Hyūga. But there was no use running from it now.

It was time to face the consequences.

She thought the worst thing they could do because of her outburst was punish her with community work around the village—or worse, strip her of her ninja title. But, to her surprise, no punishment came. And the reason for that was none other than Hiashi Hyūga himself.

The moment he walked into the office, Sakura was sure she was done for. She had insulted him—in public—and if that wasn’t bad enough, she had been secretly training with Hinata and the Hyūga clan’s outcast. But there was no way he could know that… right? Right?

To say Sakura was panicking would be an understatement. A million different scenarios raced through her head. She braced herself for the worst, hoping she would at least make it out of this meeting alive.

But then, Hiashi Hyūga did the unthinkable—he admitted she was right.

He acknowledged that everything she had said had truth to it. Sakura was stunned. And she wasn’t the only one. The entire room—including the Hokage—was frozen in a silence heavy with disbelief. Shock was written across every face.

The Hokage had called her in privately to reprimand her behavior, but now, with the head of the Hyūga clan himself declaring it unnecessary, the scolding never came.

Afterward, Sakura tried to summon the words to thank him. Her mouth opened, but no sound came. So instead, she lowered her head in a deep bow and left the Hokage’s office as quickly as she could, her heart still pounding.

Kakashi hadn’t expected Hiashi to defend Sakura—not like that, not unprompted. He knew the Hokage wouldn’t have punished her severely regardless, but still… the Hyūga clan head’s intervention had caught him off guard. It didn’t sit right—not because it was wrong, but because it was so unlike Hiashi.

But there wasn’t time to dwell on it.

He had a message to deliver.

Once the meeting ended, Kakashi quietly slipped from the Hokage’s office and followed Hiashi through the village. He kept a fair distance, not bothering to hide—he knew Hiashi could sense him, and he wasn’t trying to be subtle.

Eventually, Hiashi stepped off the main path and came to a stop in the shadows between two old training grounds. It was quiet here, far from the flow of villagers.

Kakashi didn’t waste time.

“Aria wants you to visit her,” he said, voice flat.

A pause. Two seconds. Then:

“She says it’s urgent.”

Kakashi turned to leave, already walking past the Hyūga when Hiashi finally responded.

“She’s welcome to visit me herself.”

Kakashi stopped mid-step.

Even without turning, he could feel Hiashi watching him—sharp-eyed, unreadable. Kakashi remained still, but tension laced his spine. There was no hiding anything from the Byakugan.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, softly. He knew it wasn’t his place. Still, Aria’s return could shake more than just old bonds—it could shift power itself in Konoha.

Hiashi exhaled, and for the first time, he sounded… tired.

“The elders want to kill Neji,” he said quietly.

Kakashi turned his head slightly, just enough to listen.

“Danzo wants him for himself. I’ve failed, Hatake. I’ve failed to protect him. And I need her help.”

There was no pride in his voice—only the weight of a man backed into a corner by the very people he once defended.

Kakashi nodded, expression hidden behind his mask.

“Understood.”

Without another word, he continued down the path, this time heading toward Aria’s home—again.

To say Aria was anxious would be an understatement. She didn’t know what to do with herself. The uncertainty surrounding Hinata’s and Neji’s conditions gnawed at her, making everything worse. All she could do now was wait—and hope—that Hiashi would show up.

She doubted he would approve of what she planned, but she had to try. The clan was tearing itself apart, and she had promised Hanako she would protect it. No matter what it cost her, she had to go back. She had to save this godforsaken clan from itself.

She sensed a chakra signature approaching and immediately prepared herself for a conversation. But before the figure reached the clearing, she realized it wasn’t Hiashi—it was Kakashi. Most likely, he came with a message.

She opened the door before he even reached the edge of the clearing. The anticipation was clawing at her insides. When he arrived, she stepped aside and let him in without a word. They sat For a moment, silence.

Then Kakashi spoke.

“Hiashi said that if you want to talk to him, you can come back into the village and do it yourself.”

Aria stared at him flatly, her face void of expression.

“You could’ve just said ‘he said no’ instead of repeating his sarcastic remarks.”

Kakashi met her eyes, unblinking. “The elders want to kill Neji.”

She froze. Her lips trembled, but she forced out, “No... They wouldn’t dare.”

Kakashi didn’t flinch. “Danzo wants him for himself. And you know what that means.”

Aria felt the air leave her lungs. Neji’s life had already been hard enough. Now his only options were death—or Danzo.

“So no,” Kakashi went on, “Hiashi wasn’t joking. He wants you to come back, at least to help resolve the situation with Neji.”

Aria drew a slow, deep breath, then another. She stood without a word.

Before Kakashi could speak again, she was already gone—racing toward the village, her chakra barely contained. The Hyūga patrol was nowhere in sight, but the regular gate guards stood at their posts. On any other day, they would have stopped her. But today, no one moved. It seemed even the Hokage understood what was at stake.

No one questioned her as she passed through the gates and made her way toward the Hyūga compound—the place she had only seen in her dreams... or nightmares.

The Hyūga guards stationed at the compound gates looked at her with wide-eyed confusion. They knew who she was. They had been ordered to let her in. But none of them understood why the woman once labeled a traitor to the clan was now being welcomed back—by Hiashi Hyūga himself.

Aria walked in silence beside Kakashi, heading toward the main meeting room nestled at the heart of the compound. Why Kakashi was still with her was a mystery—his job had ended with delivering Hiashi’s message—but the guards had insisted his presence was requested by name. Another unexpected move by Hiashi.

As they made their way through the long, dim hallways of the compound, the atmosphere grew heavier. Curious glances followed her. The younger members didn’t know who she was, but the older ones did—and their shock was evident. Branch members stepped aside when she passed. Whether it was a sign of respect… or deeply ingrained reflex, Aria couldn’t tell.

When they finally reached the meeting room, every eye turned to her. The elders were already gathered. Their Byakugan activated, they watched her with thinly veiled suspicion and outright hostility.

At the center of the room, seated calmly and sipping tea from a porcelain cup, was Hiashi Hyūga. The blood on his ceremonial robes had dried into dark, stiff patches, stark against the white silk. When he looked up and met her eyes, he gestured silently to the mat in front of him.

Aria moved forward and sat, her movements measured and dignified. That was when the true purpose of this gathering began to unfold.

Hikari Hyūga stood abruptly, his voice sharp with disdain. “Are you out of your mind, Hiashi? How could you let that woman back into the clan? Have you forgotten that she thought herself above our traditions?”

Fuyuki Hyūga—arrogant and always eager to follow Hikari’s lead—rose next, practically shouting. “You know her return could lead to rebellion! This is dangerous, Hiashi!”

But before another insult could land, a single voice cut through the chaos.

“Enough.”

Reina Hyūga, the only woman on the Elder Council, sat with the grace of royalty and the sharpness of a blade. She turned her gaze to Hiashi.

“Tell us, Hiashi. Why have you chosen to allow her return, when we all remember what she tried to do?”

Hiashi didn’t answer immediately. He lifted his teacup, took a long, unhurried sip, then finally set it down.

“As you may have heard, Orochimaru infiltrated the Chūnin Exams under disguise. He attacked Sasuke Uchiha and Naruto Uzumaki. We may not like to admit it, but those boys are crucial to the future of this village.” His voice was calm, matter-of-fact. “Hinata was involved in the defense against that threat. The Hokage suspects Orochimaru may attack again. For the safety of the clan and the village, I’ve asked Aria to return—temporarily.”

Reina tilted her head slightly. “That is troubling news. But are you implying the Hyūga clan could not defend the village on its own, Hiashi?”

At that moment, Aria’s patience wore thin.

“Reina-sama, with all due respect, none of you have ever been—nor ever will be—on my level.” Her voice was cold, measured. “After all… you’re the one who trained me. Isn’t that right, Master?”

A collective gasp rippled through the room. Reina’s calm expression did not falter, but her fingers tightened on the sleeve of her robe.

“You vile child!” Fuyuki bellowed. “How dare you speak to her like that!”

Before the tension escalated further, Hiashi raised a hand. Instantly, the room fell silent.

“We’ll settle this with a vote,” he declared. “Those who oppose her return—stand.”

Predictably, Hikari stood first, his followers trailing behind him like obedient dogs. Aria didn’t look at them at first. She knew the numbers would be stacked against her.

But then her gaze drifted to Hiashi, and something clicked in her mind.

The Main Branch had always been full of cowards—eager to perfect their jutsu, but only to lord over the Branch Family. In battle, in war, they had no weight. They were shadows of what a Hyūga should be.

She finally looked around the room.

Many stood, but just as many remained seated. Cowards. Fence-sitters. Opportunists waiting to see which way the wind blew.

But Reina did not move. She remained seated like a poised, blooming flower in the midst of a storm. Not because she feared battle—but because she expected it.

And welcomed the change it would bring.

The very next day, Sakura decided to visit Hinata in the hospital. As she walked through the village, she ran into Ino, who was also on her way there.

The hospital was quieter today than it had been yesterday after the fights, but the atmosphere was still heavy and exhausting.

“Do you think Hinata is okay?” Ino asked, her voice laced with sadness.

“She might not be completely okay... but I know she can pull through. She has to,” Sakura replied, determination flashing in her eyes as she pushed open the door to the room where Hinata and Neji were recovering.

But someone unexpected greeted her first.

Aria Hyūga—one of her mentors—was sitting between the two beds, gently placing wet towels on the cousins’ foreheads. Sakura froze for a moment in surprise, but then noticed Kakashi-sensei leaning against the far wall, giving her a reassuring nod.

“Who are you?” Ino asked loudly, clearly taken aback.

“My name is Aria Hyūga. I’m Hinata and Neji’s aunt,” she replied in a quiet, composed voice.

“Ahh, I see. Well, it’s nice to meet you,” Ino said awkwardly, stepping inside and placing a small bouquet of flowers in the vase between the beds.

Sakura was unsure at first, but she decided not to ask anything yet. She wanted to wait until Aria herself offered an explanation.

As Aria carefully tended to both Neji and Hinata, Sakura and Ino did their best to help her however they could. But soon, loud voices from outside drew their attention.

Their male classmates had arrived to visit as well, with Tenten among them—most likely to see Neji. But none of them could get close to either bed. Aria’s presence made it clear: this room was under her watch.

All of them eyed her like she was some kind of mystery. That silence, heavy and awkward, was eventually broken by Naruto’s loud voice.

“Wait—you look exactly like the woman who saved us in the forest! Right, Sasuke?”

Sasuke studied her for a moment. “Yeah… that’s definitely her.”

“She even smells the same,” Kiba muttered under his breath, his cheeks turning pink. He wasn’t the only one—Naruto’s face was completely red, and even Chōji looked flustered. Aria was beautiful, after all. The kind of beauty that drew eyes, from men and women alike.

But Sakura knew better. That beauty was just a mask—Aria’s cold, distant demeanor quickly reminded them all of that.

Her voice cut through the tension like a kunai.

“My name is Aria Hyūga. Yes, I was the one in the forest. I was acting under direct orders from the Hokage,” she said sharply. “Now I’d appreciate it if all of you would be quiet. This is a hospital, for crying out loud.”

Silence fell at once, broken only by Shikamaru’s soft “What a drag,” and the occasional crunch of Chōji’s chips.

Then came a gasp.

Neji Hyūga’s eyes fluttered open.

Chapter Text

Neji didn’t know where he was. All he remembered was the excruciating pain in his chest. Honestly, he didn’t feel like waking up. In sleep, there was peace—he had dreams he hadn’t had in years. But alas, the world was never that kind.

When he finally opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was a face he hadn’t seen, or even thought about, in years—Aria.

The woman who had helped raise him after his mother died. The one who taught him the basics of the Gentle Fist. The one who would sneak him and Hinata sweets from her missions, even when she was supposed to be cold and distant like the rest of the clan.

She was sitting beside his bed, watching him with quiet worry etched in her features. But as his gaze met hers, she softened, the tension melting from her face.

He looked around the room. Tenten was sitting nearby, along with some genin from Hinata’s year. But strangely, Lee and Gai-sensei were nowhere to be seen—which, given their personalities, was... unusual. Still, that wasn’t what shook him the most.

It was the sight of the girl in the bed next to his.

Hinata.

Her body was bruised, pale, unconscious. It felt like a punch to the gut. A flood of emotions surged inside him—guilt, sorrow, confusion, something else he couldn’t quite name. He didn’t even have time to untangle it all before the door swung open.

A doctor entered, clipboard in hand, followed closely by his sensei, who—as always—made his presence known with a booming voice.

The doctor gave a polite nod to those in the room before making his way to Neji’s bedside. His eyes scanned the monitor, then Neji himself, gently lifting the hem of the bandages to inspect the healing wound.

“You were lucky,” the doctor said, professional but kind. “The lung was punctured, but you were stabilized quickly. Thanks to timely medical intervention, the damage has been reversed. The lung is fully reinflated, and your chakra system is steady.”

Neji stayed silent, still watching Hinata.

“You’re officially cleared for recovery in a regular room,” the doctor added, giving a glance to the others. “But you’ll need at least a week of rest—no training, no missions. Understand?”

Neji gave a faint nod, and the doctor turned to Gai, quietly offering further instructions before stepping back with a respectful bow and leaving the room.

Gai walked closer, his usual brightness dimmed by something more somber. “Neji,” he said, placing a hand on his student’s shoulder. “You fought bravely. I’m proud of you.”

Neji’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Where’s Lee?”

Gai looked down, his hand tightening just slightly. “He pushed himself past his limit. Far past it. He collapsed after his match. The medics are doing all they can... but it's serious.”

A silence fell, heavy and suffocating.

Before Neji could respond, the door slid open again.

Hiashi Hyūga stepped in, his presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room. The tension shifted immediately, more formal, more restrained.

“Neji,” Hiashi said, his voice low but steady. “We need to speak.”

Aria stood, her expression unreadable. She placed a gentle hand on Neji’s blanket, just briefly—a silent gesture of comfort—before turning to the others. “Give them a moment.”

Tenten hesitated, glancing at Neji, but followed the unspoken order. The younger genin bowed and filed out quietly. Kurenai and Gai followed after a moment, whispering amongst themselves as the door shut softly behind them. Aria was the last one to leave , Hiashi did not mind her presence , but she insisted .

After she left ,Hiashi turned his attention back to Neji.

Hiashi remained standing for a long moment after the others left, eyes fixed on Neji, who still lay propped up against the pillows, pale but conscious. The dim afternoon light crept in through the window, catching in the white of their eyes.

“I expected you to win,” Hiashi said at last. His voice was neutral, unreadable. “But perhaps that expectation was unfair. Hinata’s resolve surprised us both.”

Neji said nothing. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away.

Hiashi took a step closer, though he kept his hands clasped behind his back.

“I saw the way you fought,” Hiashi continued. “And the way you looked at her when you thought she wouldn’t get back up. You hesitated.”

Neji’s eyes narrowed. “She should have stayed down.”

“But she didn’t.”

Silence.

Hiashi studied his nephew for a moment, then added, “You nearly killed each other. And yet… she still fought till the end.”

“She was taught to,” Neji said flatly.

“No,” Hiashi replied, voice lower. “That was her own choice .That was respect she showed for herself.”

Neji turned his head slowly, eyes cold and steady. “Respect? Really?”

Hiashi exhaled through his nose.

“You speak of fate, yet you don’t understand what shaped hers. You think she was coddled—shielded from suffering. But you’re wrong.”

A muscle in Neji’s cheek twitched.

“She has fought alone for years,” Hiashi went on. “Isolated within her own clan. Branded by the expectations of those who would sooner replace her than help her grow.”

Neji scoffed. “And yet she still has her name. Her title. Her freedom.”

“Yes,” Hiashi said. “But none of it means what you think it does.”

He stepped closer now, within arm’s reach, and lowered his voice.

“When your father died for me, I thought I understood the burden of leadership. I didn’t. Not until I saw what it did to her. I watched my daughter carry the same silence your father did—the same quiet resentment. The same loneliness.”

Neji’s expression faltered for the first time.

Hiashi looked at him carefully. “I know what you’ve been told. What you believe. About my role in your father’s death.”

Neji’s fingers tightened over the blanket.

“I followed the clan’s law,” Hiashi said quietly. “But it wasn’t my will. Hizashi chose it. Freely. He left a letter… which you never received.”

Neji’s eyes snapped toward him.

“It was never given to you,” Hiashi confirmed. “The Elders believed it would interfere with your duty. I disagreed—but I let them silence me. I chose survival over truth.”

He pulled a folded paper from inside his robe and placed it gently on the edge of Neji’s bed.

Neji stared at it like it was a weapon.

Hiashi straightened. “Read it when you’re ready.”

A pause. Then—

“I don’t ask for forgiveness,” Hiashi said, voice firm. “But I will not let the past keep destroying the future. Not for you. And not for her.”

He turned to go—then stopped beside the door, glancing once over his shoulder.

“Hinata” he said, with a sigh. “She wants to challenge the system. Not for herself—but for all of us.”

Neji’s breath caught.

“She may fail,” Hiashi said. “But if she succeeds… we will need you.”

Then, with quiet finality, he opened the door and stepped out.

Naruto was deep in thought — something he didn’t do often and definitely didn’t enjoy. But the past few days had been unusually heavy.

From Sasuke's condition in the forest, to Karin's  appearance, to Hinata's brutal battle — everything had piled up into a confusing mess he couldn’t ignore.

“Ughhh, my head hurts from all this!” he groaned, throwing his arms up.

A few villagers turned their heads, startled by his outburst, but Naruto barely noticed. What caught his attention was far more unexpected.

Down the street, he spotted Kakashi-sensei walking alongside her — the woman from the forest. Aria Hyūga.

She was staring at him . Not subtly, either — full-on, sharp-eyed focus like he was a puzzle she didn’t quite understand.

So, like any normal person would do, he stared right back, matching her intensity with his own, stubborn glare. But then her eyes changed. She activated the Byakugan.

Naruto yelped and took a quick step back. After seeing what those eyes could do in battle, the last thing he wanted was them turned on him.

Before he could retreat or ask what her problem was, she approached — calm, composed, and somehow even more intimidating up close. At least Kakashi was with her.

Maybe she was like the others. Maybe she hated him, too.

But instead of insults, she said bluntly, “Ninjas shouldn’t yell like that. It could compromise their mission. Next time you do it, make sure the situation requires it.”

Naruto blinked. That was... unexpected.

Kakashi scratched the back of his head lazily. “Let’s cut him some slack. He was never great at paying attention in class.”

Aria didn’t budge. “Your laid-back attitude is exactly why he thinks yelling like that is acceptable. Are you not teaching your students basic operational discipline? Honestly, who let you be a teacher?”

“The Hokage,” Kakashi replied, with a mockingly cheerful tone.

“I know that, genius. Gosh, you’re infuriating.”

Before Kakashi could answer, a loud smack and a woman's yell echoed down the street. They all turned toward the source of the noise.

A man came tumbling out of the women’s bathhouse, steam still clinging to his clothes, a clear red mark on his cheek. It was a scene Naruto had seen more than once — a pervert getting what he deserved — but what surprised him was how normal his two companions found it.

Kakashi didn’t even flinch. Aria, on the other hand, looked furious. She was glaring so hard, Naruto thought the man might burst into flames.

The man stood up, shaking off the water. Long white hair, a big scroll slung across his back, and sandals. Weird didn’t even begin to cover it.

“You do know that what you did is considered a crime, right?” Aria snapped, stepping forward.

“Heyyy, kid, haven’t seen you in a while!” the man said, laughing. “Besides, I was collecting research for my next book.”

“If a certain someone saw you right now, she’d launch you to the moon. You know that, right?” Aria’s voice was cold. “But since she’s not here, I’ll make sure you’re punished accordingly.”

Kakashi stepped between them, arms raised casually. “Now, now, Aria — let’s not do anything we’ll regret.”

“Regret? The only reason you’re defending him is because you need him to finish writing that stupid book of yours.”

Naruto’s ears perked up. “Wait — he’s the guy who writes those trashy books?!”

Old man bristled. “How dare you call my masterpieces trash! I’ve been writing those since before you were even born, you little—!”

“Of course they’re trash!” Naruto shot back. “All they talk about is—mmph!”

Kakashi clamped a hand over Naruto’s mouth.

“Let’s calm down,” he said smoothly. “He’s just a kid. Doesn’t understand literary genius yet, jiraiya-sama . He’ll come around.”

Jiraiya folded his arms. “You’d better, brat.”

Naruto bit Kakashi’s hand and shouted, “I won’t! And I don’t need your trashy books — because I’m gonna be Hokage one day! Believe it!”

Aria crossed her arms, unimpressed. “Great. A loud-mouthed Hokage who thinks yelling solves everything.”

Kakashi, still massaging his hand, just smiled. “Well, at least he’s got spirit.”

“A Hokage, huh?” the white-haired man mused with a smirk. “You’ve got big dreams, don’t you, little guy? But right now… I don’t really see you becoming Hokage.”

Naruto scowled, pointing a finger. “And who are you to tell me that?!”

The man straightened with theatrical flair, his voice booming with pride.
“I’m the Third Hokage’s student and the sensei of the Fourth Hokage! Also—and most importantly—I’m the writer of the legendary Icha-Icha Paradise series! Jiraiya, the Toad Sage!” he declared triumphantly, waiting for the boy’s reaction.

“…Who?” was the only thing he heard in response.

After she left the hospital, Sakura found herself confused. She knew Aria had been banished from the Hyūga clan—so what was she doing in Hinata and Neji’s hospital room?

Maybe that was what she and Kakashi-sensei had talked about earlier. But whatever the case, she wasn’t getting any answers right now.

After stepping outside, she realized she and Sasuke were the only ones left. Even Naruto and Ino had gone off to deal with something else. It was just the two of them now.

She hadn’t spent much time alone with Sasuke outside of training. If it had been the old her, she might’ve been on cloud nine. But now… the silence felt heavier. Awkward. Grueling, even.

And to her surprise—it wasn’t her who broke it.

“Some shady things are going on in the Hyūga clan,” Sasuke muttered.

The thought had crossed her mind before—that clan affairs might be hard on Sasuke. But she had never brought it up. After all, it wasn’t something he seemed willing to talk about. Still, as his teammate, it was her responsibility to make sure he was okay.

“Listen,” she said, and his ears seemed to perk up slightly.

“I know it’s none of my business, and I can’t pretend to understand your pain... but if you ever need someone to talk to, I’ll be ready to listen. And not just me—Naruto and Kakashi-sensei too. We’re all here if you need a shoulder.”

Sasuke fell quiet after that, not saying another word as they made their way through the village streets. When they reached the center, she turned to bid him farewell for the day.

But before she left, he looked at her with a strange expression. And then, in a quiet voice that caught her off guard, he said:

“Thank you, Sakura.”

It might not have seemed like much to anyone else—but to Sasuke, those words carried more weight than he was ready to admit. And the soft, genuine smile Sakura gave him in return?

That meant even more.

After the past few days, all Shikamaru wanted was to sleep—alone, undisturbed, and without anything to worry about. But of course, peace and quiet were luxuries he never really got to enjoy. The current source of his irritation was Sakura, who—for some reason—wanted to meet with his father again.

During the fifteen-minute walk to the Nara compound, the only words he bothered to say were, “What a drag.” Repeatedly. Sakura didn’t seem to care, which was strange in itself.

When they finally reached his father’s office, Shikamaru simply let her go in without asking questions. Still, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious. He knew he wouldn’t get answers from anyone involved, though, so instead of snooping, he made his way to the training grounds and tried to sleep.

But sleep never came.

So he lay there, thoughts racing, the sun climbing overhead, the hours slipping by until it was already noon. Eventually, his frustration outweighed his apathy.

He decided to confront them.

His reasoning was simple: his father had never lied to him, not when it really mattered. Even when things were kept quiet, he’d always been honest when Shikamaru asked directly. He trusted him.

So, he walked straight into the office without knocking and sat down beside Sakura—who, to his surprise, had tears in her eyes.

“What are you doing here, Shikamaru?” his father asked, voice flat.

“This whole thing is a drag,” he muttered, then sighed. “Let’s just say curiosity killed the cat. I know this has something to do with the Hyūga. That much has been obvious over the past few days. The creepy guy from the forest probably isn’t the core of it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to take advantage. And that weird Aria woman? She’s definitely part of the picture.”

“I see,” his father said slowly. “So you’ve caught on to quite a bit. But tell me—why are you asking now? Most of the time, you don’t care.”

He could’ve dodged the question. But lying now would be pointless.

“The second part of the Exams was dangerous. Way more dangerous than I expected. And being in a situation where I don’t know enough—it pissed me off. I’m not going to sit on the sidelines while everything around me is on the edge of falling apart.”

Shikaku studied his son for a moment. “If I tell you the truth, you won’t be able to forget it. You’ll carry the consequences, especially if others fall. Are you ready for that kind of responsibility?”

Shikamaru glanced at Sakura. She hadn’t spoken once, and yet… she’d clearly taken that responsibility on herself.

He knew Hinata was involved. And somehow, whether they wanted it or not, every genin team had already been pulled into this mess.

He exhaled slowly.

“It’s not like I have much of a choice,” he said. “Not with this weird  shitstorm hanging over all of us.”

Chapter Text

“Ohh, well that’s tough.”

Shikamaru definitely hadn’t expected the story to develop like that.

Hinata wanting to change her clan, and Sakura not only knowing about it but even helping? It seemed really stretched. But the evidence spoke for itself.

What surprised him more was the willingness of four jonin to help them—including his father. And, as it seemed right now, even the head of the Hyuuga clan was on their side.

This shit was about to get wicked, and he seriously regretted his earlier curiosity.

But, well… he couldn’t take that choice back now.

“Have you satisfied your curiosity now?” Sakura asked, not sounding particularly kind.

But he wasn’t about to argue with her.

“Yeah. What a drag,” was all he said in return, which in his opinion described the situation at hand perfectly.

“Now that I’ve told you everything, would you like to stay and listen to a lecture about brain nerve damage?”

His father’s sarcastic tone made it clear that Shikamaru really didn’t have a choice in the matter.

So he just sat there and listened for another two hours.

As evening approached and Sakura was ready to leave, Shikamaru followed her.

As to why he did that… it was to apologize.

“Sakura, wait a second.”

When he stopped and looked at her, he noticed the confused expression on her face—but he didn’t give her the time to question it.

“I’m sorry about what happened in the forest. I should’ve trusted you more,” he said with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“You don’t need to worry about that, Shikamaru. I’m not angry at all,” she answered.

“I know why you had your suspicions, and I can’t blame you for it.”

Then she looked at him with a wicked smile.

“But now that you know everything, don’t expect to just slack off. Me and Hinata will definitely need that brain of yours. Make sure to be prepared.”

After she finished her little monologue, she walked off with a confident smirk.

“What a drag… now I won’t be able to have quiet days anymore,” he muttered with a dramatic sigh, before turning on his heels and heading to his favorite place on the planet:

His bed.

It had been three days since she returned to the compound, and needless to say, everyone was under immense pressure. No one really knew what was going on—but she had no time for that now.

She approached the hospital and headed straight toward Neji’s room.

After his conversation with Hiashi, she had decided to leave him alone—for her own sanity.

But now it was time. Time to actually have a conversation with him.

He had been moved out of the ICU and his health had improved significantly. Still, she didn’t want to startle him, so she knocked on the door before walking in and sitting down next to his bed.

“How have you been doing, Neji? It’s been really long since we’ve talked, so you might not remember me well.”

“Are you questioning my memory, Aria-sama?”

He shot back a snarky remark, the kind she imagined he inherited from his grandfather—his father, in contrast, had always been well-spoken and calm.

“No, I’m not questioning anything. It’s just been so long. But I’m not here to talk about the past. Right now, we need to talk about your future—which, to be frank, doesn’t look bright at all.”

“Let me guess... the elders want me dead,” he said like it was just another Monday.

But she, unfortunately, had to break his assumption.

“Well... the situation is a bit more complex than that.”

“What? What more could the council do to get rid of me?”

“Well, for example, one notorious asshole might come by and offer you a place in Root.”

He looked at her with a puzzled expression.

“What is the Root?”

“Root is a group of ninja associated with Danzo Shimura. He’s one of the village elders and has quite a bit of influence over the Hokage. Now, you might be thinking—why would that be bad? But I want you to know: he wants to use you as a tool. Against the clan... and against the village. And I know you don’t really care about the clan right now, but I hope you’ll make the right decision and give Hinata enough time to change this clan.”

His eyes flared with hatred when he heard her name.

But that quickly faded, replaced by sadness.

“Do you actually believe this clan is worth saving?”

She knew this question would come. But it was still rough to answer—especially without bringing up his father’s death, which she deeply wanted to avoid.

God knows how many shinobi lived in quiet misery because of that kind of pressure.

“Well, to be honest... I believed in it for a long time. But for even longer, I had completely given up on this clan. Hinata’s the one who gave me a reason to keep fighting.”

“But what’s her motivation then? Why would she even do that?”

Aria sighed before answering.

“She said she wants to unite the clan and free the side branch. But her real motivation... was giving you and Hanabi a better life. Seriously, her character is definitely one she got from Hanako. Hiashi could never understand that much. But at least... he’s trying now. That’s better than ignorance.”

She paused.

“But the choice is ultimately yours.”

Neji’s tone shifted—more serious this time.

“So you’re saying there are only two roads open for me... and neither of them will make me enjoy my life, right?”

“Oh well,” Aria said as she stood up, leaned in, and gave him a kiss on the head.

“If that’s what you think, then yes. But I hope that genius brain of yours will be able to figure something out.”

She walked to the door.

“I’ll visit you tomorrow. Please make sure to have your answer ready.”

She left, closing the door quietly behind her before making her way toward Hinata’s room.

She was still a bit scared for Neji...

But she hoped—no, she believed—that he would make the right decision.

For the village.

For the clan.

But first of all—for himself.

The only thing Kakashi Hatake wanted to do right now was laying in bed to read his precious book.

But sadly, reality wasn’t that merciful.

Orochimaru’s appearance was a major threat—not only to the Village Hidden in the Leaves, but also to the other villages that had sent their genin to the Chūnin Exams.

But that wasn’t the main reason for Kakashi’s restlessness.

It was the fact that his students were Orochimaru’s only targets—especially Sasuke.

Kakashi didn’t know the reason behind Orochimaru’s actions, but he knew one thing: he had to protect Sasuke at all costs.

To do that, first he needed to learn the snake’s motive.

And to do that, he had to talk to one crazy, purple-haired woman: Anko Mitarashi.

It’s not like he disrespected her or anything, but she was... a bit too much for his comfort.

So, he had to mentally brace himself—especially since it was still early in the morning.

He knocked on her door for a full three minutes straight.

That part was normal. What wasn’t normal... was the red-haired girl who opened the door.

How he had managed to forget about her was a mystery to him.

But there was no time to dwell on it now.

The girl was definitely startled by him—understandably so. And that only intensified when Anko made her usual loud entrance.

“Yo, Kakashi! How’s life going?”

She was in her nightgown. So yeah—she had just woken up.

“It’s fine. Listen, I need to have a conversation with you about something important.”

“Now what could possibly be so important that you barge in at 11 a.m.?”

She led him into the kitchen and sent the girl back to her room, then settled into a chair right across from him.

He decided to cut straight to the chase.

“Are you here to talk about that bastard?”

She looked at him, her killing intent flaring. Typical Anko.

“As you may know,” Kakashi began, “Orochimaru tried to mark my student—Sasuke Uchiha—with the same curse mark you carry. The sealing wasn’t fully complete, and I removed it, but knowing him, it won’t be that simple. I need to know what precautions I should take.”

“Well, it’s good that the sealing wasn’t finished,” she replied.

“I also know he was healed in the forest—by that red glasses girl over there.” She jerked her thumb toward the room the redhead had gone into.

“Since the seal was removed, it shouldn’t cause too much trouble. But keep in mind: that fucker won’t stop until he reaches his goal. His first plan failed, so now you better teach the kid some new tricks. Strengthen his defense.”

“I see. Thanks for the advice.”

“No need to thank me. The more of Orochimaru’s plans we screw up, the happier I’ll be.”

Just as Kakashi got up to leave, the girl came back out of her room and sat on the couch—staring daggers at Anko, which was... not surprising.

“Next time you want to have a private conversation, try going to your room yourself, you scary woman.”

“You brat!” Anko snapped.

“Still don’t respect me, huh?”

“News flash, old hag—not a lot of people do.”

“Ohhh?! Looks like someone wants to get beat up again! Come here, you little shit—”

Kakashi was about to leave... but he had one last thing to do.

He gently stepped in front of Anko, cutting her off, and turned to face the girl.

“My name is Kakashi Hatake. I’m the sensei of the boy you saved. I wanted to thank you for it.”

“You’re very welcome, Hatake-san. And since Sasuke is your student, that means Sakura and Naruto are too, right?”

“Yes, they are.”

“Can you tell them Karin says hi? And that I’m okay? Also... thank them again for me.”

“I’ll make sure to pass the message.”

“Thank you.”

She gave him a small bow before continuing her verbal war with her loudmouthed host.

After his talk with Anko, Kakashi made the decision quite easily—he had to train Sasuke more intensely than before.

But to do that, he needed time.

And right now, time was a very precious thing.

He also had to figure out what to do with his other students. He couldn’t just leave them to fend for themselves—he needed people who could take care of them in his absence.

With Sakura, the decision was simple. He could talk to Kurenai; she would help. Aria could also contribute, though her attention would mostly be on the Hyūgas, and she certainly wouldn’t put Sakura in any unnecessary danger.

Naruto, however… that was more complicated. Not many people were willing to take responsibility for training him.

Luckily, Jiraiya was in the village—so Kakashi only had to talk to him.

First, though, he had to find him. Considering Jiraiya’s character, that was easy.

Konoha’s red-light district was small, but still lively—filled with shinobi and civilians alike, all wanting to let loose. Kakashi didn’t have to walk far before spotting Jiraiya, who was, of course, chatting up a beautiful hostess.

When Jiraiya glanced around and their eyes met, Kakashi saw the man let out a dramatic sigh. Nonetheless, the Sannin left the woman and walked over.

“I hope you have a good reason for bothering me, Kakashi. I was in the middle of my research.”

“We should talk in private.”

“Ohhh? What is it—you want advice on how to sway a woman? Or maybe hear about my next book in progress?”

Jiraiya wiggled his eyebrows, smirking all the way until they reached a quiet spot where his demeanor shifted entirely.

“As you might know,” Kakashi began, “I’m a genin sensei whose team was targeted by Orochimaru during the Chūnin Exams. He tried to mark Sasuke Uchiha. His first attempt failed—but you know better than anyone that he won’t give up easily.”

“Cut to the chase, Kakashi. What do you want from me?”

“I want you to train Naruto while I’m occupied with Sasuke. I know there are other people who could help, but you’re by far his best option. I could ask Aria, but with the Hyūgas in shambles right now, that would only complicate things. I hope you understand.”

Jiraiya paused, then let out a quiet chuckle.

“Well, he’s Minato and Kushina’s brat—and I am his godfather. He did disrespect me, but… ohhh well. I’ll help you out.”

“Thank you, Jiraiya-sama.”

Kakashi turned to leave, but before he could take three steps, Jiraiya called after him:

“You sure you don’t want help with women? Or are you planning to die alone?”

Needless to say… Kakashi didn’t answer.

That same afternoon, Kakashi gathered his students one by one to discuss their plans moving forward.

When they arrived at the training ground, he decided to start with Karin’s message.

Hearing it made both Naruto and Sakura light up—relieved and happy to know she was safe.

Then he moved to the real reason for the meeting.

“Since Orochimaru is a dangerous opponent—and for some reason, you’re his target, Sasuke—you’ll need specialized training to defend yourself against him. That may take longer than a few days, so you and I will be training together until the Chūnin Exams.”

Sasuke was clearly pleased with the announcement; it meant he would get stronger.

Sakura and Naruto, however, were not so thrilled.

“What? What about us? Don’t we need to be trained too?!” Naruto shouted.

Sakura crossed her arms with a pout. “I know training him is important, but we need to get stronger too, right, sensei?”

Kakashi raised a hand. “If you’ll let me finish… Sakura, I’ve spoken with Kurenai, and she’ll be training you alongside Shino, Kiba, and Hinata—once Hinata recovers.”

Sakura still looked disappointed, but at least she would have a teacher.

“As for you, Naruto—Jiraiya-sama will be training you for the last stage of the Chūnin Exams.”

Naruto’s jaw dropped. “Are you talking about that pervy guy? Why him of all people?”

“Because he’s a great shinobi,” Kakashi replied evenly. “And I’m sure he’ll teach you a lot of useful things.”

Turning back to Sasuke, Kakashi gave his final instruction.

“Meet me at the village gates tomorrow morning at sunrise. Pack lightly.”

“Yes, sensei.” Sasuke smirked, clearly enjoying the way his teammates bristled at his tone.

Kakashi made a mental note about Sasuke’s attitude—it was something he’d have to address eventually.

For now, at least, he might be able to get a few hours of quiet sleep.

Naruto and Sasuke soon left the training ground, but Sakura lingered behind.

Unlike most of Konoha’s genin, she was perceptive enough to read the tension in her teacher’s posture.

“Are you okay, sensei? You looked really tense… is there more going on than we know?”

“No, nothing like that,” Kakashi answered with a faint smile. “I’m just a bit worried. But there’s no need for you to be scared—just train hard and listen to Kurenai.”

“I won’t disappoint you,” Sakura hummed before jogging off toward the warm glow of the village lights.

Aria sat quietly in Hinata’s hospital room.

Hinata’s injuries were worse than Neji’s, and she still hadn’t woken up—something that made Aria’s chest tighten with anxiety.

The shinobi life was ruthless; she’d seen far too many children die on the battlefield. Yet the fear never faded—it still gnawed at her now, as it always had.

The bruises on Hinata’s face had lightened, but her heartbeat was still faint, quiet.

Waiting was all Aria could do.

Hiashi was occupied dealing with the clan, and truthfully, she had no desire to spend more time in the Hyūga compound than absolutely necessary.

Although she was a little excited to be back in the village, not many people shared her enthusiasm.

The way some Hyūga members acted toward her had stung, though she refused to complain.

Her mind, however, kept circling back to Neji and the choice he would have to make.

Since the morning after her talk with him, she had been here in Hinata’s room—feeling like a small, cornered animal.

It was unusual for her; she had never been ashamed of her past or afraid to speak her mind. But the atmosphere around her now… it pressed against her like a heavy weight.

Throughout the day, many people had visited Hinata. That had warmed her more than she expected.

But what she did not expect was a visit from Reina.

For as long as she could remember, Reina had held a high position in the clan. She was the perfect image of a Hyūga woman—elegant, gentle, and quiet. But Aria knew that was just a mask, one that had made Reina formidable. Her true strength came from her ability to teach and demonstrate the Main Branch’s secret techniques with unmatched precision.

Reina had once been her teacher—the one who had taught her everything worth knowing.

Aria had idolized her so much that she’d mimicked her movements exactly. But those days had long passed; they no longer saw eye to eye.

“So, how’s my favorite student doing?” Reina began, settling gracefully into the chair opposite Aria. She looked every inch the perfect Hyūga—calm, poised, untouchable. But Aria knew better than to play along.

“You’ve been back in the compound for a few days, yet I’ve only seen you at the meeting—where you so rudely interrupted me.”

Her lips curled slightly. “But I’m not going to lie, I liked the way you shut those elders up. You’ve always had a talent for taking down ego-driven idiots.”

“I don’t need you telling me that,” Aria replied evenly. “Say what you came to say, then leave.”

Reina laughed—loud, unrestrained, with tears at the corners of her eyes. “I just wanted to check on our heiress… and maybe give you a little warning.”

Aria’s Byakugan flared to life as she locked eyes with her former teacher.

“I know what your plan is with Hizashi’s boy. I’m not an idiot. I’ve also figured out what our little princess intends. I’ll warn you—dig any deeper, and things will get complicated. I’d advise you to walk away. But… you stopped taking my advice years ago.”

A weak whisper drifted from the hospital bed.

“Good. Your ‘advice’ is nothing more than a tactic to scare us into obedience. It won’t work.”

“Oh? You’re awake, Hinata-sama.” Reina’s voice was syrupy sweet, though her eyes glinted. “I’m glad to see our heiress recovering… but don’t talk over me, little girl. You have no idea what I’m capable—”

She leaned close to Hinata’s ear, but the door slid open and a doctor entered, cutting her off.

Reina straightened instantly, her perfect mask snapping back into place. Without another word, she glided out of the room.

The sound of Aria’s loud, mocking laughter followed her down the hall—and that, Aria suspected, would bother her far more than anything else.

The next morning, Sakura felt strangely alone.

Kakashi, Sasuke, and Naruto had all left for their training. She, on the other hand, stayed in the village.

Her session with Kurenai-sensei wouldn’t start until noon, so she decided to visit Hinata.

The moment she stepped into the hospital room and saw Hinata’s pale eyes looking at her from the bed, Sakura’s voice rose before she could stop herself.

“You know what you did was dangerous, right?”

“Umm… Sakura-chan, please let me explain—”

“I knew you wanted to fight him, but that was beyond reckless!”

“I know, Sakura-chan.”

“So you knew—and you still went through with it?” Sakura huffed, fussing over Hinata and checking her condition herself.

“I’m sorry,” Hinata said sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to make anyone worry. I just… wanted to prove to Neji that he was wrong.”

Slowly, Sakura’s anger cooled. “I know. I just… got scared. Sorry, I overreacted.”

“What are you talking about, forehead?” Ino’s voice rang through the room, the sound of her brisk footsteps echoing after it.

“You didn’t overreact,” Ino declared. “What she did was reckless. She made all of us worry.”

“Ino-chan, please, let’s not talk about it. I’m already ashamed as it is.”

“What are you doing here, Ino-pig?” Sakura shot back.

“What do you think I’m doing, forehead? I came to visit her. And I heard you say your anger was an overreaction. Any other day, I’d laugh at you—but this time? This girl here put herself in serious danger on purpose. She could’ve stopped, but she didn’t!”

Ino’s chest was rising and falling with every sharp breath.

“What a drag,” came Shikamaru’s voice from the hallway, followed by the familiar crunch of chips. “No need to run, Ino. We all had the same destination.”

“Shut up, Shikamaru.”

“What are you guys doing here?” Hinata asked, cheeks pink with embarrassment.

“We heard you woke up, so we came to visit,” Chōji answered, holding out his chip bag.

Hinata politely declined,  Sakura  on the other hand snaped, “She can’t eat that. She needs a healthy diet.”

Her team arrived next , after which the hole room was in chaos—barks from Akamaru, Kiba’s loud complaints, and Shino adding in dry, unnecessary comments. Akamaru scrambled up onto Hinata’s bed, licking her face enthusiastically. Shino stood quietly at her side with a hand on her shoulder, while Kiba and  Ino continued their lecture, with Sakura chiming in.

The noise came to an abrupt stop when Aria and Kurenai-sensei stepped inside.

“This is a hospital,” Kurenai said sternly, “not a market square. Quiet down.”

One by one, the visitors left, except for the teachers, Sakura, and Akamaru—who Kiba had “left behind for emotional support.”

For the next twenty minutes, Hinata listened to Kurenai’s lecture about the importance of knowing when to stop. Aria sat back with a faint, amused smile.

When Kurenai finished, Sakura turned to her. “Aria-sensei… why are you like this?” She waved a hand vaguely toward her face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means your face almost always has one expression—like a permanent resting bitch face,” Kurenai answered dryly.

“Anyway…” Aria rolled her eyes. “I just had a very productive conversation with someone.”

“Would you mind sharing who it was with?” Hinata asked cautiously.

“You’ll find out when it’s time.” Aria leaned down, kissed Hinata on the head, ruffled Sakura’s hair, and slowly left to inform Hiashi of Neji’s decision.

Chapter Text

After Hiashi got the information of Hinata’s recovering, he breathed out the breath he did not know he was holding. The past few days had been hectic — the elders were angry, and they tried to use everything to oppose his decision about Aria, but he was not budging.

The whole situation was quite absurd. But right now, to protect the clan, he had no other way. He only hoped that at least some of the elders would come to their senses.

His thoughts were interrupted when Aria walked in with a small smile, which was strange for her, and sat down in front of him.

So he did not even think before saying, “What is wrong with your face?”

Aria raised a brow at him and looked at him with her usual blank stare. But the next thing was even more out of character than a smile — she laughed out loud.

“Guess I really have a cold personality, huh? Anyway, Neji made his decision.”

Those words made Hiashi tense with worry, but given the fact that Aria was smiling, he relaxed. He got up from his chair and moved toward the door. Placing his hand against the wood, he wove a series of seals with his chakra. A faint circular pattern bloomed across the frame, glowing like the Eight Trigrams, before fading into the air.

The air shifted — heavy, muted. The world outside seemed to vanish. Sound, chakra, even the Byakugan’s gaze could not reach them now. The room had been pulled sideways, hidden in a thin fold of space.

“You know that technique you use is not fair to our dear elders,” Aria teased, her grin widening. “If they found out about it, they might have a heart attack.”

“They have enough venom in their hearts,” Hiashi replied dryly. “Perhaps the shock would restart them.”

Aria laughed again, a bigger smile than he had seen since she was a child. “I thought you forgot humor when you became head of the clan.”

“Please, let’s get this over with before they realize what we are doing.”

“That child is surely a smart one,” she continued. “He figured out my intentions, and he seemed fully on board. That letter from his father was definitely the most important reason he made that decision. He will act as our little agent — that way the bastards won’t be able to touch him. But we’ll also have to act accordingly, or else they won’t believe it.”

“I see.” Hiashi grew quiet, weighing her words. He knew this was the only way to protect the boy from the elders, but in truth, they were still throwing him into the beast’s den.

“Did you talk with the Hokage about it?” he asked, already knowing she liked to be one step ahead.

“I did. He wasn’t really happy, but I found a way to make him agree.”

Hiashi almost didn’t want to know what she had told the most powerful shinobi in the village, but he had no choice. After a few seconds of silence, Aria continued.

“While I was fighting Orochimaru, one thing surprised me. Danzo was always careful with the Chūnin Exams. He would always put his most trusted Root members near the village gates, and more stationed throughout the village. But this time, I didn’t see them. A few were around, but I think they were there only as distractions.”

Aria didn’t need to finish. Hiashi already understood.

“You think he is conspiring with Orochimaru?”

“Oh, I don’t think. I know. And don’t pretend you don’t know about his hiding place that resists the Byakugan, or his Sharingan arm — only someone as insane as Orochimaru would craft such a thing. It was always obvious that Danzo had a hand in the Uchiha massacre.”

“You do realize that if anyone finds out about your little game, the consequences would be lethal.”

“I’m aware. But if it’s true, then Hokage-sama will have to get rid of him. And he knows that refusing me won’t stop me. Besides… I doubt he didn’t know about Danzo’s plans with the Uchiha.”

“And how exactly did you convince him?”

“By telling him the truth he needed to hear. That he was a coward for not killing Orochimaru, and for not dealing with Danzo when he revealed Naruto Uzumaki’s status as a jinchūriki.”

“I see. Well, it is what it is.” Hiashi’s voice was calm, but he knew things could go wrong at any moment. Still, he had no choice but to follow her lead.

“And,” Aria continued, “Hinata has to know about everything. She is the one who started the change. And I think it is time to tell her everything about the clan.”

“Aria, if that information gets out—”

“It already did. I shouldn’t know, but I do. And let’s not pretend that we actually know the whole truth. We can at least use the fragments we do have to make this clan not suck.”

Aria opened the door, and Hiashi felt the seal unravel. The air returned to normal, sound from outside filtering back in. He could sense it in his bones — soon, the clan would break, because Aria would force it to.

The decision he made would change his life and turn everything upside down. Neji stood in front of Hinata’s room, clutching his father’s letter tightly in his hand.

The contents had filled him with anger the first time he read them. For a moment, he even thought Hiashi had forged it — but the emotions etched into the words were too raw, too real to be faked.

All this time he had believed his uncle forced his father to sacrifice himself in his stead. Learning now that it had been his father’s choice hurt in a way he couldn’t describe. Yet, in some twisted way, it made sense. His father understood that trapped feeling — of being chained to a destiny neither of them had signed up for.

But now, Neji needed to see for himself. He needed to know just how serious Hinata’s intentions truly were. She had never been someone to show such fierce resolve over anything. Even if Aria and Hiashi believed in her, Neji had to be sure she had the strength to follow through.

He opened the door without hesitation.

Hinata sat upright on the bed, her eyes closed as though in deep thought. When the sound of the door reached her, she opened them. Her face was   — sad, but with a spark of hope. Straightening her back, she met his gaze as he sat down beside her.

A heavy silence filled the room. So many questions burned between them, but neither spoke. Neji’s pride held him back, Hinata’s hesitation held her.

At last, she broke the silence with words that had never once passed her lips.

“I’m sorry,” she said firmly. “I’m sorry for being so useless, for not doing anything to protect the branch family. Everything you and the branch family have suffered… it is the fault of the main family. We claim to have stronger blood, stronger eyes, but in truth we’ve been blind.

“And even if it’s hard for you to believe me, I promise to change everything — for you, for Uncle, for Hanabi, for the entire branch family. I’ll burn this clan to the ground and rebilled  if that’s what it takes. That is the path I’ve chosen — the cause I am willing to die for. This is my Will of Fire. I will not give up. Until my last breath, I will fight for the people, and protect them. I will never break my promise.”

Neji stared at her, speechless. He never expected to hear such words from the heiress of the main family. A few days ago, he would have crushed her naïve little dream without hesitation. But now… now he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“I see,” was all he managed, because truly, there was nothing left to ask.

He began to rise, but Hinata’s hand caught his sleeve.

“It’s been so long since we’ve spent time together,” she said softly. “Would you stay? I want to talk with you about everything… please, Neji-niisan.”

Even after he had treated her like nothing but trash, she still thought of him as her brother. Pathetic, he told himself. And yet, somehow… a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt. Slowly, he sat back down.

“How are your injuries, Hinata-sama?” he asked, eyes flicking to the bandages that wrapped her body.

“I feel much better. I hope I’ll be able to leave the hospital soon.”

“I’m sorr—”

“There’s no need,” Hinata cut him off, her tone steady. “You haven’t done anything wrong. What’s happened is in the past, and we should leave it there. But… I hope in the future, we can work together. For the clan. And for the village.”

She braced herself for rejection, but her voice carried no regret.

For a long moment, only silence. Her expression dimmed, but she held her head high, her back straight. She knew Neji needed time. She didn’t expect him to agree, not yet. But she hoped.

And then he said it.

“I will.” His voice cracked as tears threatened to spill. “I will make sure to help you with that cause.”

A gentle hand reached for his — not to command, not to restrain, but to comfort. And this time, he didn’t resist. He accepted it.

Hinata’s eyes softened, though her voice remained firm.

“Neji-nii-san… for the Hyūga to change, someone will have to pay a price. Maybe even with their life. If that time comes, I won’t hesitate. Because this is bigger than me.”

Neji’s breath caught for a moment. He masked it quickly, but her words dug into him more deeply than he wanted to admit. The thought of her throwing her life away stirred something strange and uncomfortable in his chest.

He narrowed his eyes instead, pushing the feeling down.

“Big words,” he muttered. “But words are not enough. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Hinata didn’t flinch. She simply straightened her back further, meeting his gaze with a steadiness that unnerved him.

“Then watch me,” she said quietly.

For the first time, Neji didn’t have a sharp retort. He turned his head away, as if dismissing her, but inside his thoughts refused to settle.

After she was done training Shino and Kiba, Kurenai made her way to the training ground where Sakura was waiting for a lesson. She knew the past few days had been hard on her, so she had planned to cheer the girl up a bit—perhaps even invite her for some tea to soothe her nerves.

But as she approached, she immediately noticed strange spikes of chakra.

The sight before her was not what she expected.

Sakura and Ino were already sparring fiercely, the entire training ground a mess of broken earth and scattered weapons. Sakura wielded her axes with surprising fluidity, while Ino seemed to rely on Mind Transfer Jutsu to redirect Sakura’s attacks. But what made Kurenai pause was that Sakura actually broke out of the jutsu—a feat that even seasoned shinobi would find difficult.

The moment she did, Sakura dashed straight at Ino with sharp determination. Ino quickly attempted an Earth Style technique, but Sakura instantly countered with a genjutsu that forced her to misfire. Ino, however, didn’t waste the opening—she leapt onto a tree, launching a volley of shuriken from above.

Sakura dodged every single one, moving with a speed and awareness that clearly reflected Aria’s training. Then, with one clean strike, she cleaved through the trunk of the tree with her axe.

The tree toppled. Ino’s footing faltered. She would have hit the ground hard if Kurenai hadn’t caught her at the last moment.

“I see you’ve started training without me,” Kurenai said dryly.

“I did, sensei—and Ino tagged along,” Sakura answered.

“What do you mean tagged along? You were the one who begged me to join, forehead!” Ino snapped back.

Sakura stuck her tongue out playfully in response.

Kurenai only raised her brows, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Regardless, I saw enough to know this: you’ve developed a lot, Sakura. That training really seems to be paying off.”

“Thank you, sensei,” Sakura replied shyly, her cheeks tinged pink.

Ino sulked for a moment, but Kurenai turned to her as well. “And you, Ino—you fought much better than in the exams. You’ve already learned from your last battle with Sakura and turned it into a strength. That’s an impressive skill.”

Ino straightened her posture, her confidence returning after the compliment.

“Well, since both of you are here,” Kurenai continued, her tone shifting into something more serious, “why don’t we work on defensive training? Considering what happened during the exams, you need to be prepared against opponents far stronger than you. Someone like Orochimaru won’t give you second chances.”

Kurenai frowned slightly, running through her arsenal of techniques. She had genjutsu and illusions aplenty, but she needed something practical, something that could help them survive in a direct encounter. Luckily, she knew exactly who to turn to for help.

“Stay here,” she told them, before heading off toward a familiar apartment.

Anko would definitely have some ideas.

Karin idly pushed her food around her plate, while her hostess sat sprawled on the couch flipping through a magazine. Living like this wasn’t bad, per se. Quiet meals, daily bickering with Anko, and long hours buried in books whenever Anko was away on missions. It wasn’t bad at all—just boring.

Not that Karin dared complain. Things could have been much worse. She could be rotting in a prison cell, interrogated daily by the Torture and Interrogation Department. Compared to that fate, sharing a home with a loud, unpredictable special jōnin was paradise.

And Anko… well, she wasn’t the worst. Funny in her own twisted way. Caring, though she’d rather eat glass than admit it. Karin would rather eat glass too, than acknowledge how safe she felt here. For the first time in forever, she was free. Not truly free, of course—she was still under guard. But compared to the hole she had crawled out of, this felt like heaven.

“You’re not eating.”

Karin looked up to find Anko glaring daggers at her.

“I went out and bought that crap because you wanted it, and now you’re just poking at it? Ungrateful brat.”

“Listen, angry-moob lady,” Karin shot back, lips twitching into a smirk. “It’s literally your mission to look after me. If such a simple assignment is too hard for you, maybe you shouldn’t be a special jōnin.”

Karin could see Anko tense, ready to leap across the table and wring her neck. And honestly? She kind of wanted her to. Fighting Anko was more fun than sitting in silence.

But before they could start, a knock at the door interrupted them.

Anko swung it open, still glowering at Karin—only for her whole expression to flip when she saw who stood outside.

“Kurenai-chan! Long time no see. Thank god you showed up, this brat was drilling a hole in my brain. Come in, I’ll make some tea—”

“Anko, I don’t have much time,” Kurenai cut in. “I need your help with my students’ training.”

Anko’s playful tone dropped instantly. “Because of the snake bastard?”

Kurenai nodded. “Yes. I want to prepare them against him. Teach them defensive techniques strong enough to give them a chance. Please, I need your help.”

Anko’s eyes swept the room and landed on Karin. For a moment, she looked like she was going to refuse. Then she shrugged on her jacket.

“Get up, brat. We’re going.”

“What? Hokage-sama said I can’t leave!” Karin’s voice spiked in alarm. She didn’t want to ruin her chances of being accepted by breaking orders.

Anko waved her off. “I’ll explain it to the Hokage. Besides, you do have permission to walk around the village—with an escort.”

“What?! You never told me that!” Karin shot to her feet, indignant.

“Because I didn’t want you pestering me every five minutes about going outside,” Anko replied with a wicked grin.

“You’re the meanest woman I’ve ever met.”

“I know. Now put your shoes on—we’ve got brats to train.”

Karin wanted to keep sulking, but the truth was, her annoyance was drowned out by excitement. She could actually walk around the village. She could see the people who had saved her and maybe—just maybe—have a chance to befriend them.

So instead of arguing, she followed her angry, sharp-tongued hostess out the door, her heart beating a little faster than she wanted to admit.

As they approached the training ground, Karin’s expression softened into something brighter. The two kunoichi training with Kurenai were none other than Ino and Sakura—and under the shade of a large oak tree sat Hinata, smiling faintly as she listened to her friends bicker.

The moment Kurenai noticed Hinata, however, her expression shifted. She hurried to her student’s side and began scolding her sharply for leaving the hospital. Karin blinked in surprise. Hospital? She hadn’t realized Hinata was hurt—and now that she looked closer, the girl did seem battered and pale. But Hinata, gentle as ever, reassured Kurenai that she didn’t need to stay in bed any longer. Her stubborn determination was written clearly on her face.

Karin hung back at first, half-hidden behind a tree, suddenly anxious about meeting the others again. But Anko was having none of it—she hooked her by the collar and dragged her out into the open.

The reaction stunned Karin.

“Sakura yelled, “Is that you, Karin?!” and dashed forward, wrapping her in a tight hug. Ino quickly helped Hinata to her feet so she could join, and within moments, all three girls were crowding around her, smiles bright and arms welcoming.

Karin flushed scarlet, overwhelmed but undeniably happy. The questions came quickly—about her well-being, about her new life—and Karin found herself asking Hinata how she was healing in turn.

The warm moment, of course, didn’t last long.

“Well, it’s great you’ve all got such a lovely reunion going on,” Anko’s voice cut through like a kunai, her grin sharp and mocking. “But let’s not forget why we’re here. Two of you are supposed to be training.”

Her tone made all three stiffen. Even Hinata bowed her head apologetically for causing a disturbance. Karin blinked in surprise before remembering—Right. She was the proctor during the second exam. No wonder they’re terrified of her. Karin had gotten used to Anko’s brashness, but the others hadn’t.

Relieved to slip back into the background, Karin sat down beside Hinata under the oak tree. The Hyūga girl gave her a soft, caring smile, and something warm stirred in Karin’s chest.

There was only one question she truly wanted to ask.

“Hinata-chan… do you know where Naruto is? I wanted to talk with him, if possible.”

Hinata’s gaze softened. “Naruto went off to train. He’ll be back in about a month. You’ll see him then—I’m sorry to disappoint.”

Karin shook her head quickly. “No, no, it’s fine. I’ll wait. I’ll talk to him when he returns.” Still, she couldn’t help the faint dip in her expression. She hesitated, then offered, “Hinata-chan… if you want, I can give you some of my chakra. It might—”

But Hinata stopped her gently, her words firm but kind. “Karin-chan, I know you mean well. But please don’t put your own well-being down for me. Even if I’m weak now, I’ll get stronger. There’s no need for you to tire yourself out for my sake. And besides…” Hinata’s lips curved into a shy smile, “I’m not in a dire situation. So why don’t you tell me what you think of Konoha so far?”

That smile hit Karin harder than any scolding could have. For the first time in her life, someone wasn’t asking to use her power, wasn’t demanding anything from her—they were just… caring. Genuinely caring.

And for the first time she could remember, Karin felt safe. Truly safe.

The night was unseasonably cold, and far too quiet. Neji could feel it—that strange heaviness in the air, an energy that didn’t belong. He wasn’t a fool; he knew what it meant. But that didn’t make the feeling any less unwelcome.

He stood alone on the training grounds, the grass still damp from the evening dew. Recently cleared by the doctors, he had thrown himself back into training with the Byakugan and Gentle Fist. Strike after strike, stance after stance—his movements were crisp, each blow sharper than the last. Yet his body was still recovering, and soon fatigue weighed him down.

Sinking to the ground, Neji closed his eyes and slowed his breathing, letting his thoughts fade into the star-strewn sky above. Meditation brought a fragile calm.

But then—he felt it. A presence. Heavy, suffocating chakra creeping closer.

His eyes snapped open, Byakugan flaring. Among the shadows, he saw him: the man Aria had described. Just as foul and unsettling as the rumors said. Neji’s jaw tightened. Still, he forced himself to play the part.

“Who’s there? Show yourself!” He shifted into the Gentle Fist stance, his voice sharp, though his heart remained steady.

The figure emerged, voice low and rasping. “There’s no need for alarm, child. My name is Danzō Shimura. I trust you’ve heard of me.”

Neji’s posture softened into feigned respect. “Danzō-sama… forgive my rudeness. I didn’t realize.”

“It’s fine.” The elder’s single eye studied him, cold and calculating. “I’ve come to offer you something. An opportunity. One that could place your clan where it truly deserves to be.”

Had this been weeks ago, Neji might have laughed bitterly, dismissing him with talk of fate and inevitability. But now… things were different.

What shook him most was Hinata. He had always believed her fate was to remain timid—weak, voiceless, a shadow of the Hyūga name. Yet in the exams, she had fought. Truly fought. She stood against overwhelming odds and bore herself like a Hyūga heiress, defying the very destiny Neji thought had bound her. That single act had forced him to question everything. If Hinata could rise beyond her chains, then perhaps fate was not absolute.

His father’s sacrifice still burned in his memory. He no longer believed in chains of destiny. Still, he was no fool—he knew what kind of man Danzō was, and what it meant to trust him.

So, as planned with his aunt, he gave the answer that would neither bind him nor close the door.

“I will listen to your proposition,” Neji said evenly. “And then I will decide, according to the situation.”

A faint curl touched Danzō’s lips, though his gaze remained as dark as ever. “Smart. Smarter than the clan elders, certainly. Perhaps… even a worthy heir to the Hyūga in the future.”

And with that, the shadowy man stepped back into the forest, his chakra fading into the darkness—cold and poisonous, like the night itself.

Chapter Text

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the Hokage’s office windows, casting long shadows across the polished floor. Outside, the village stirred with the quiet hum of anticipation for the Chūnin Exam finals. Soon, the stadium would echo with cheers, and the young shinobi of Konoha would test their strength before the world.

Hiruzen Sarutobi sat behind his desk, the papers before him left untouched. His eyes, distant and heavy, searched a horizon only he could see.

The Exams had always been a symbol of growth, a tradition binding allies and rivals together. Yet this year, unease pressed down on him like a weight he could not set aside. He knew why—his thoughts, as they so often did, circled back to Orochimaru.

Once, his student had been the brightest of his generation, brilliant and ambitious, with the makings of a true successor. But ambition had rotted into obsession, and obsession into something darker. Now, Orochimaru lurked as an enemy in the shadows of the very village that had once nurtured him.

And Hiruzen knew he was here.

He had sent Aria into the Forest of Death during the second phase of the Exams, hoping she could cut through the deception and find him. She had come close—closer than most ever had—but Orochimaru had slipped away, a snake shedding its skin. The mission ended in frustration, but not failure.  

With Hiashi’s insight, they had decided Aria’s place was here, within the walls of Konoha, until the Exams concluded. She would protect her clan if needed, and stand as Hiruzen’s shadow against the storm they both knew was coming.

And she was not alone. Anko, too, had been drawn into the preparations. Haunted by the scars Orochimaru left her with, she carried both knowledge of his methods and a burning will to stop him. Between Anko’s insight and Aria’s vigilance, Hiruzen had found himself less isolated in the burden he bore. Together, the three of them had woven a quiet defense—ANBU placed with care, hidden seals reinforced, strategies refined late into the night.

Still, doubt whispered. Was it enough? Could it ever be enough, when the enemy was Orochimaru?

Hiruzen rose slowly from his chair, his joints stiff but his resolve unbroken, and crossed to the window. From here, he could see the rooftops and streets coming alive in the morning light. Soon the stadium would be filled with laughter, pride, hope—innocent voices carried on the breeze.

He wanted to believe in it, as he always had. But instinct gnawed at him.

His fingers tightened on the windowsill as he looked down at the village he had sworn to protect. Whatever came, he would face it. And this time, he would not face it alone.

The children would fight in the arena. The village itself would be tested. And when the time came, Hiruzen Sarutobi—together with all who still stood beside him—would be ready.

At last, he decided to rest before the upcoming storm, but the quiet was short-lived. The soft creak of his office door drew his gaze, and a figure stepped inside—an ANBU mask hiding her face, violet hair spilling from beneath it.

As she removed the mask, Hiruzen’s eyes softened. Yūgao Uzuki, a capable kunoichi he had long respected, now stood before him with silent tears tracing down her cheeks. She bowed deeply, her composure trembling.

“Lord Hokage…” her voice cracked, barely above a whisper. “Hayate… he’s… he’s gone.”

The words hung heavy in the air. Hiruzen closed his eyes, his heart sinking. Though he had suspected—rumors from the border, the silence where Hayate’s report should have been—confirmation was a knife to the chest.

Yūgao clutched her mask to her chest as if it were the only thing keeping her standing. “He… he was everything to me. And yet… I wasn’t there to protect him. I wasn’t there…”

Hiruzen rose slowly, his age showing in every step as he crossed the room. Resting a hand on her shoulder, he spoke with the gravity of a man who had carried too many losses.

“Yūgao… Hayate gave his life for the village. That sacrifice is not in vain, and neither is your grief. But do not let sorrow consume you. You honor him not by weeping, but by living—and by protecting what he died to protect.”

Her lips trembled, but she nodded, kneeling low to the floor. “Then… please, Hokage-sama… let me fight in his place. Whatever storm is coming, I’ll stand against it.”

Hiruzen looked down at her, a faint ache in his chest. The coming days would demand every loyal shinobi’s strength, and though he wished he could shield her from further pain, he knew her resolve could not be caged.

“Very well,” he said softly. “Stand tall, Yūgao. For Hayate… and for Konoha.”

She bowed again, tears still glistening—but her spine was straight now, her resolve unshaken.

Karin woke up feeling unusually lighthearted. Today she would be allowed to watch the Chūnin Exam finals with her friends. Even better, she’d finally get to see Naruto compete, which made her almost giddy with excitement. She woke early, humming quietly to herself as she prepared for the day.

But the moment she stepped out of her room, that brightness dimmed. Something felt… off.

Anko was sitting at the table, sipping tea. Karin froze. Tea? Anko hated tea—she only ever drank coffee, and she despised waking up early unless she had a mission. Even stranger, she was already dressed in her full mission gear.

“Maybe she got assigned something urgent,” Karin thought to herself. But no… if it had been urgent, Anko wouldn’t be sitting there calmly drinking tea.

Taking a closer look, Karin felt the hairs on her neck rise. A heavy, simmering killing intent was seeping from Anko’s body. She’d noticed it lingering here and there over the past month, but now it was stronger, sharper—like a blade pressed just out of sight.

Anko looked up, her eyes narrowing as she caught Karin staring. For a moment, her glare was sharp enough to cut through steel. But then, almost strangely, her expression softened, as if she’d reined herself back in.

“I see you woke up, brat,” Anko drawled, her tone teasing but strangely subdued. Karin sat down opposite her, wary.

“Today I’ll be helping with some preparations for the final round,” Anko continued, her voice unusually calm. “So Kurenai will be in charge of you.”

Normally, Karin would have fired back some snark about how she didn’t need looking after, or about how Anko was abandoning her. But instead, she found herself just… quiet. Maybe it was because she did want to spend time with her guardian today—but would never admit it.

“You better behave and listen to her. Got it, brat?”

“Yes, angry lady. I’ll behave and listen to Kurenai-san.” The words slipped out before Karin could stop them. She braced for Anko’s explosion—but none came.

Instead, Anko stood. She walked past Karin toward the door, her presence unusually heavy. “Kurenai will be here in five minutes. Prepare yourself before she comes. I’ll be waiting outside until then.”

She stepped out, closing the door quietly behind her.

Karin stared at the door, unsettled. Sure, Anko always had an attitude problem, but this… this wasn’t her. She’d never seen her act so restrained, so oddly serious.

And though Karin hated to admit it, her chest tightened with unease. Something was wrong. And it seemed that this day—the one she’d thought would be full of excitement and cheer—was going to be anything but.

The Hyūga compound was quiet in the early morning, but for Aria, nothing seemed to change as the hours passed. People woke up, the halls filled with murmurs, and the children sighed from morning training exhausted—but her mind had been shut down for days. The realization that soon she would have to leave the compound had finally settled in. She had known she shouldn’t let herself grow attached, yet she couldn’t resist. The memories of her childhood clung to her, and the thought of letting them go hurt more than she could ever put into words.

She wandered slowly through the compound, careful not to disturb anyone. The path she took was familiar—she had walked it thousands of times before. She knew every step so well she could have walked it with her eyes closed. Still, each time was just as heavy as the last. For an entire month she had avoided this place, unable to bring herself to face it. But now she knew: if she didn’t come today, she might never have another chance.

When the road ended, she found herself standing before the garden. It looked just as radiant as it had when she was a child, the irony was not lost on her , this place only held sorrow . The Hyūga shrine for their ancestors was carefully tended, beautiful in its way. Whenever someone in the clan was lost—to war, to illness, to fate—she had come here. She had come after Hizashi’s death as well. That had been the last time

What had always struck her was how the shrine held names from both the main and branch families. Death erased those divisions. As a child she had asked why that was, but no one had answered her. Now, she thought she might finally understand.

She closed her eyes before entering, as though afraid of what she would see. Taking a deep breath, she opened them again—and her gaze fell immediately on the names that cut her deepest. Hanako. Hizashi.

She had never come here since her sister’s death. Seeing Hanako’s name carved into the shrine made the loss real in a way she had always tried to avoid. It hurt just as much as the day she had learned of it, when the elders had denied her the chance to see her sister in her final moments. And Hizashi—his sacrifice still weighed on the entire clan, on Neji most of all.

Her hands shook as she lit the incense. One for Hanako, who had been her light, her comfort, the person who had believed in her. One for Hizashi, who had given his life so others could live in harmony, a man who deserved more than the burden fate had forced upon him.

In a low voice, she spoke to them.

To Hanako, she confessed how much she missed her, how her heart still longed for her presence, how every step felt emptier without her voice beside her. She begged her sister to forgive her for not being there at the end.

To Hizashi, she whispered about Neji, about how he had begun to open his eyes, how Hinata had surprised everyone by fighting like the heiress she was born to be. She asked him to watch over them, to guide them, to give them the strength to change the clan in ways he had once believed was possible.

Her voice broke as tears slipped down her cheeks, and soon her words became quiet sobs. She bowed deeply before the shrine, forehead nearly to the ground, weeping for the people she respected and loved most.

This was all she could give them now—her prayers, her grief, and her promise to carry them with her into whatever lay ahead.

Aria wiped away her tears and lingered in the shrine for a few more minutes before finally rising to leave. At the doorway, she turned back for one last look, exhaling slowly as she tried to compose herself. The walk back through the compound felt lighter somehow. The words she had spoken—words chained inside her heart for years—had finally been released.

As she neared the inner gardens, she noticed a small figure walking among the flowers with her nanny. Little Hanabi Hyūga was carefully plucking blossoms of different colors, lifting each one to her face to test its scent. Her expression shifted with every choice—sometimes wrinkling her nose in disapproval, sometimes softening into quiet delight. When she was satisfied, she arranged the flowers into a neat little bouquet and proudly held it up to show her caretaker.

Aria hesitated. For the entire month she had been staying at the compound, she had avoided speaking with the girl. She thought to quietly turn away again—but Hanabi noticed her. The girl’s eyes held a flicker of doubt, but determination followed, and she walked up to Aria with a soft but steady greeting.

“My name is Hanabi Hyūga,” she said in her sweet, childish voice.

“I’m aware,” Aria replied gently. “You are Hiashi-sama’s second daughter. Is there something I can help you with?”

Hanabi hesitated, fidgeting slightly before speaking again.

“I heard from the elders… they said you are my mother’s cousin. That you grew up with her like sisters, after your parents died. Is that true?”

Aria’s chest tightened as old memories stirred. She remembered little of her parents—she had been only two when they were killed on a mission. It was Hanako’s mother who had raised her. Hanko loved her not just a cousin but as a true sister. Hanako had always dreamed of having a sibling, and when Aria came into her mothers care, it was as if fate had answered that dream.

“Yes, it’s true,” Aria said softly. “But why do you ask me this, Hanabi?”

The girl shifted uncomfortably, eyes dropping to the ground as she shuffled her feet. After a long silence, her small voice returned.

“I… I wanted to ask you about my mother. Father never talks about her. And Neesan was so young when she died, she doesn’t remember much. I want to know what kind of person she was… so if you could tell me some stories?”

Behind her, the nanny, Natsu, stepped forward with concern.

“Hanabi-sama, Aria-sama is very busy. It may be best not to trouble her.”

Aria raised her hand slightly. “There’s no need for that, Natsu-san.” Her answer made the woman blush—clearly, she hadn’t expected Aria to remember her name.

But Aria’s own heart twisted. She knew she could not truly fulfill such a promise. Soon, she would be leaving the compound again, perhaps for good. Yet as Hanabi looked up at her, so hopeful and so determined, it became impossible to refuse.

“…Yes,” Aria said at last. “I’ll tell you about her.”

Hanabi’s eyes sparkled instantly, her smile lighting up her face. For a brief moment, Aria felt as if she were staring at Hanako herself, reborn in this small child’s joy.

“Thank you, Aria-neesan!” Hanabi laughed happily. Then, with a sudden thought, she extended part of her bouquet. “I picked these for Mommy… but I think she’d be glad if I gave some to you, too.”

Aria’s throat tightened, her eyes threatening to spill tears again. She steadied herself with a deep breath, then accepted the flowers with both hands.

Hanabi beamed before dashing off, her nanny hurrying after her.

Aria stood there for a long moment, staring at the blossoms in her hands. Bright colors, fragile petals—and a promise. She might not have the chance to tell Hanabi those stories, but she would make sure Hinata heard them, so that in some way Hanabi’s wish could still be honored.

With renewed purpose, she resumed her walk. The little girl’s smile had given her something she hadn’t expected—another reason to fight.

Kurenai approached Anko’s house, and just as she expected, her friend was standing right outside the door. Even though Anko tried to hide it, Kurenai had known for weeks now that something was wrong—most likely the lingering weight of Orochimaru’s attack during the exams.

The village itself felt tense. Security had tightened everywhere, and while the official reason was “for the Chūnin Exams” or “to welcome the Sand delegation,” the way the ANBU moved and behaved suggested something more. Something darker. Kurenai’s instincts told her the village was bracing for impact.

The moment Anko spotted her, she strode forward quickly. “Thanks for helping me out today, Kurenai-chan,” she said, her voice steady but thinner than usual. She caught Kurenai’s hand tightly, and before Kurenai could react, she felt Anko’s fingertip moving deliberately against her palm.

Letters. A message.

Be safe.

Kurenai’s heart clenched at the quiet plea, though her face remained calm. Anko’s eyes held hers for a heartbeat longer, then she let go, forcing a crooked smile back onto her lips. “I wouldn’t be able to trust anyone else with her safety,” she added, as if nothing had passed between them.

Before Kurenai could respond, Anko turned sharply, leaping onto the rooftops and vanishing into the waking village.

Kurenai exhaled slowly, curling her fingers into a fist, feeling the warmth of Anko’s trace still lingering on her skin. Be safe… she repeated inwardly. She knew then that Anko was expecting the worst. And Kurenai herself had no choice but to be ready. Protect the villagers. Protect her students.

The crack of the door behind her pulled her back to the present. Karin was slowly walking down the stairs, her expression clouded—clear proof that she, too, sensed something strange about her host. Kurenai steadied herself and pushed the thought away. There was no need to burden the girl with more fear than necessary.

As soon as he saw the gates of the village, Naruto ran off as fast as he could. In doing so, he completely forgot he was traveling with someone.

Jiraiya’s eyebrow twitched when his godson left him in the dust. He slowed his pace and quietly slipped off the track leading to the village. The ANBU presence didn’t surprise him, but something about it felt strange, so the best thing he could do was reach the Hokage Tower unnoticed.

As he walked through the forest, he was met with an unexpected sight. A kunoichi stood before him, long black hair falling over her shoulders, her cold Byakugan gleaming even in the dim light that filtered through the trees.

Aria.

He knew who she was. They had even worked missions together—rare for him, since he usually worked alone. But if he ever needed support, she was the first he chose. Her Byakugan was invaluable, and most importantly, she wasn’t like the other Hyūga with a stick up their ass.

“Welcome back, Jiraiya-sama,” she said politely. But even through her calm tone, he could hear the dread. This wasn’t about her distaste for some of his habits. Something was wrong.

“Is something the matter, kid?” he asked. The answer came as soon as the words left his mouth.

“As you may know, Orochimaru appeared in the village during the second part of the Chūnin Exams. We believe he’s planning something for today. We don’t know what, but…” She paused briefly. “One of our jōnin has already been murdered. We’re certain it’s connected to him.”

“Who was it?”

“Hayate Gekkō.”

Jiraiya’s expression hardened. He knew the boy. He also knew he had a fiancée waiting for him. He had seen comrades die many times before, but it was never less of a tragedy.

“Hokage-sama is working on the defense plan. The ANBU have been alerted, but the rest of the shinobi have not—he doesn’t want to raise suspicion.”

“Alright. I get it. But what does my teacher want me to do?”

“Hokage-sama asks you to stay alert, but also to keep your distance. Do not interfere unless absolutely necessary.”

“And what counts as ‘absolutely necessary’?” Jiraiya asked, even though he already knew the answer. He needed to hear it said.

“If Orochimaru appears, Hokage-sama will face him personally. In the event of his death, he wants you to protect the village. That is why he asks you to stay alive.”

Jiraiya’s chest tightened. His sensei was already preparing for death. Even if he tried, there was no way to stop him. The only thing left was to honor his last command.

“…I understand. Tell him I’ll do as he says.”

With that, Jiraiya continued down the hidden path toward the village, leaving Aria behind. Neither of them said another word. Both knew this might be the last time Jiraiya received an order from his teacher.

The stadium soon filled with the eager audience. The Chūnin Exams had several important aspects beyond promotion. First of all, due to the large number of visitors, the village was booming economically. Each village could also showcase its prestige and strength. And as grim as it sounded, the battles made for good entertainment for the people.

Sakura thought about this as she sat down beside her friends. Ino and Chōji were nearby, already preparing to cheer as loudly as they could for Shikamaru. Hinata and Kiba were there too, with Akamaru ready to make half the stadium deaf when Kiba cheered for Shino. Between Hinata and Sakura sat their new friend with striking red hair—Karin. Kurenai-sensei watched from right behind them, her calm presence steadying the group.

Sakura was genuinely happy to spend this time with her friends, even as she sat with a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. She desperately wanted to see her teammates win—that was, of course, if they even managed to show up on time.

As she waited for Naruto and Sasuke, she noticed Karin fidgeting with her fingers, lost in thought, her expression troubled.

“Are you okay, Karin?” Sakura asked, her voice filled with concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… Anko was acting strange this morning.”

Sakura tilted her head. Strange certainly suited Anko, but “crazy” might have been even more fitting. Still, if Karin—who lived with her—was this unsettled, then something was definitely wrong.

Before Sakura could reassure her, she felt Kurenai-sensei’s hand grip her shoulder, along with Karin’s. The squeeze wasn’t painful, but it carried unease, as if even Kurenai herself wasn’t sure what was going on.

Across the stadium, the Hokage overlooked the gathering crowd carefully. People were laughing, cheering, and smiling. He wished he could preserve that joy, but deep down he knew it was impossible. Anko and Aria were stationed near the entrances, hidden in the shadows, ready to protect the civilians if needed. Yagura stood silently on the roof, surveying the perimeter with sharp eyes.

For now, all Hiruzen could do was wait. He could only hope that the shadow of impending doom would not fall today… though in his heart, he knew better.

Chapter Text

Soon, the tournament would begin, and with every passing second the pressure mounted. The eyes of many would be on him—villagers, shinobi, and even the two Kage seated in their separate section. But their opinions didn’t matter. Not really. The only one he needed to impress was him.

Danzo Shimura.

He glanced around the arena as though he were an actor stepping onto a stage, performing for the crowd. Whether he liked the idea or not, that was exactly what this was: a performance. He had to convince Danzo he was worth trusting, worth keeping close. That was the role written for him—the script crafted by his uncle and aunt. And if playing it meant that his father’s sacrifice would be honored, then he would bend backward a thousand times over to achieve it.

Stepping into the ring, his thoughts sharpened. He would need to be careful. After all, his opponent wasn’t just anyone—it was the Uzumaki boy, the jinchūriki of the Nine-Tails. The task before him was dangerous: knock out the jinchūriki, and prove himself useful to Danzo.

Dangerous, yes. But necessary. And there was no doubt in his mind—he would succeed.

“Wow!” Naruto exclaimed as he neared the stadium, Konohamaru trailing beside him. His grin stretched from ear to ear as the roar of the crowd carried over the walls. “The time has finally come! I’ll show everyone what Naruto Uzumaki—the future Hokage—is made of, believe it!”

Konohamaru didn’t share the same excitement. His brow furrowed, eyes full of worry. “Big bro… do you even remember who you’re up against?”

He wasn’t well-versed in clan politics, but he knew enough. Neji Hyūga wasn’t just any opponent—he was dangerous. Strong. A prodigy. And though Konohamaru hated doubting his hero, unease twisted in his stomach.

Naruto fell silent. Uncharacteristically silent. Konohamaru looked up at him, searching his face—and for just a heartbeat, he caught something cold and sharp in Naruto’s eyes. It sent a chill running down his spine. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by Naruto’s usual grin. Maybe he had only imagined it.

“Of course I know who I’m fighting!” Naruto declared, though his expression was hard to read.

The pause that followed felt longer than it should have. Naruto’s thoughts turned inward. Neji… the guy who tried to crush Hinata during the preliminaries. He could still see her struggling to stand and still hear the conviction in her voice . They weren’t close, not really—but she believed in him. That mattered. And he wouldn’t forgive Neji for that. Not ever.

The deafening cheer of the audience pulled him back. The Chūnin Exam finals were beginning. Naruto clenched his fists, determination burning in his chest.

Now all that was left… was to defeat the Hyūga genius.

For the past hour, Aria had been standing near the entrance, hidden in the crowd before the tournament began. She forced herself to stay vigilant. It would have been easier with her Byakugan activated, but she couldn’t waste chakra carelessly. If something happened, she would need every drop of strength.

She moved towards her seat , which was well chosen. From here, she could see two of the main entrances, her eyes sweeping over the villagers who had gathered simply to enjoy the show. She had picked a place high up, close to the wall—a spot that looked almost as though she were trying to shield the people around her from danger.

Across the arena, her gaze settled on the VIP section. The Hokage had just been joined by the Kazekage, their presence commanding the attention of the entire crowd. Nearby sat the honored clans of Konoha. She spotted Hiashi among them, seated with the ever-arrogant elders, his face half-hidden in shadow.

Hanabi,as she knew, had been left at home. The child’s protests had echoed through the compound that morning, but Hiashi hadn’t budged. Hinata, however, was present—seated with Sakura and Kurenai in a safer section, close enough for Aria to reach her quickly if she had to, but far enough from the main points of danger.

Aria had tried to convince Hiashi not to come at all, but he had refused, insisting that he must sit near the Hokage to provide aid if necessary. What surprised her more was Reina Hyūga. Earlier that morning, she had caught sight of the woman tucking combat gear beneath her robes. For all the contempt Aria held toward her, that gesture had revealed something she hadn’t expected. Twisted as Reina’s heart might be, she still loved this village.

Aria’s thoughts were cut short by the arrival of the new proctor stepping into Hayate’s place: Genma Shiranui, senbon clamped casually between his teeth. She barely registered his opening speech, her focus elsewhere. But when the first participants stepped onto the field, her body went tense.

Naruto Uzumaki.

Neji Hyūga.

The first fight.

Aria’s chest tightened. Neji had to play his part now—had to impress Danzō enough to earn his trust. She hated using him like this, but Neji himself had chosen to bear it. Even so, she couldn’t shake her unease.

Naruto was not a boy who could be taken lightly. Even without the Nine-Tails, he was the son of legends. Most only saw a loud, troublesome outcast cursed with the villagers’ hatred. But Aria knew better. She knew the truth of his blood, the raw, unpolished jade that—if shaped carefully—could become one of the strongest shinobi this world had ever seen.

But today… he had to lose.

The crowd roared as the two boys stepped into the ring. Naruto’s blue eyes gleamed with determination, while Neji’s gaze was sharp and cold, every line of his face carefully carved into that mask of arrogance.

“Withdraw,” Neji said flatly, his tone carrying across the arena. “Your fate has already been decided. A failure like you cannot change destiny.”

It was the performance Aria had asked of him, and Neji delivered it with flawless precision. Each word dripped with disdain, the kind that would draw Danzo’s attention, the kind that painted him as the Hyūga genius hardened by cruelty. But behind the act, Aria, Hinata, and Hiashi could see the truth.

Naruto clenched his fists. “Don’t talk to me about fate! I’ll break it wide open—believe it!”

They clashed. Naruto rushed in with his usual reckless energy, fists swinging, while Neji slipped around his strikes with graceful precision. His open palms struck like vipers, tapping Naruto’s tenketsu and forcing him back step by step. The crowd gasped as Naruto staggered, chakra flow already disrupted.

“You see?” Neji said, striking again, sending Naruto skidding across the arena floor. “No matter how hard you struggle, you can never change what you are. A caged bird cannot fly free.”

And then his words shifted, carefully chosen daggers aimed at the Hyūga name. “Our clan is built on chains. The main house commands, the branch house obeys. That is our fate, written on our very skin!”

The audience hushed, many leaning forward as if hearing forbidden truth for the first time, as if non off them knew the truth. In the VIP section, Hiashi’s jaw tightened. He knew this was performance—Aria had convinced Neji to play the role of the bitter, broken prodigy so that Danzo would be satisfied with the display. Yet, when Neji’s pale eyes locked with his own, Hiashi felt something he could not ignore.

Hatred. Genuine, buried deep but burning.

He still despises me…  as he should.

On the battlefield, Naruto’s chakra flickered weakly. Neji stepped forward, preparing to end it. “You have no chance. Give up.”

But Naruto snarled through gritted teeth. “I never give up!” His chakra surged—and then twisted. Dark red energy flared violently around him, forming the cloak of the Nine-Tails. The ground itself cracked under the weight of its presence.

Gasps erupted from the stands. Even Hinata, who knew the truth of Neji’s act, clutched her chest. “Naruto-san…” she whispered, praying he wouldn’t lose control.

Neji didn’t retreat. Instead, he spun in place, his Byakugan flaring wide. “Hakkeshō Kaiten!”

The air shrieked as his chakra released in a perfect sphere of defense, crashing against the raging fox cloak. For a moment, the clash was blinding—red chakra snarling against white. Dust and wind exploded outward, forcing spectators to shield their eyes.

When the smoke cleared, Neji was standing, breath ragged, arms trembling. Naruto crouched low, eyes glowing red, cloak still bubbling violently.

“Not yet,” Neji whispered to himself, and then charged.

Naruto roared back, launching forward with fox’s chakra bursting around his fist. The impact was brutal. Neji’s defense cracked, his body flung hard across the arena floor. The fox’s chakra shimmered, then slowly receded as Naruto panted in exhaustion.

For several long seconds, Neji didn’t move. The proctor raised his hand. “Winner—Naruto Uzumaki!”

The stadium erupted into cheers.

But then, to everyone’s surprise, Neji stirred. Slowly, painfully, he pushed himself up to his knees. His eyes found Naruto’s—still fierce, still proud—and then shifted briefly toward Hiashi. The mask of fury never faltered, but Hiashi saw it again in those eyes: hatred, the kind no act could fully conceal.

Hiashi exhaled through his nose, heavy with unspoken guilt. Even if Neji performed as Aria instructed, he cannot deny it. His brother died for him. His son despised him and he had earned that hatred.

Hinata, watching with tears threatening her eyes, whispered softly to herself: “Thank you, Neji-nii-san… for standing by our side”

High above, Danzo’s lips curled into the faintest smile, satisfied with the boy’s display of bitterness. The act had worked.

But Hiashi could not share that satisfaction. For him, Neji’s performance was a reminder of the sins carved into the Hyūga name—sins that no act could erase.

The performance surely entertained the Kazekage sitting beside Hiruzen, yet the conflicts of the Hyūga clan and Aria’s plans were not his immediate concern—everything else was. Rasa was younger than him; if a confrontation occurred, he would have the upper hand. The only hope Hiruzen clung to was that Rasa had come with no ill intent. But the more he studied him, the deeper his concern grew.

Rasa was known for his attitude. According to reliable sources, he rarely displayed any hint of amusement. Yet now, he moved and spoke with the poise of a seasoned diplomat—the very demeanor expected of a village leader. More troubling was his chakra: familiar, unmistakable, as if Hiruzen had sensed it for years. Every passing moment strengthened his suspicion that the man sitting beside him was not the Kazekage.

He had predicted that something would happen, but he could not act rashly. If his suspicion about this impostor’s identity was correct, Hiruzen had to act carefully—he could not give Rasa the slightest reason to doubt him. Every gesture, every word, had to be measured, or the fragile illusion would shatter.

As the next match began, Rasa sat up straight. Shikamaru would face Temari, his daughter. At first, Hiruzen thought the concern was for his daughter, but Rasa’s cooled composure as a father reminded him that appearances could be deceiving. He entertained the possibility that the sources were wrong, but Jiraiya had never drawn conclusions without cause. Perhaps he was waiting for something—or perhaps not.

Hiruzen’s eyes kept drifting toward Aria, yet every thought circled back to the man beside him. He could only hope that nothing devastating would occur.

Nara clan’s genius has once again prevailed, Aria thought to herself as she shifted her gaze toward the VIP section where the Kage were seated. The fight was over, but her focus was elsewhere. Before the match had even begun, she had noticed Hokage-sama shoot her a subtle look of warning—a fleeting glance, but enough to raise alarm in her mind.

It was a signal, one she knew better than to ignore.

Throughout the match she had already sent discreet signals toward Anko, who stood on guard near the Hokage. Now, with the uneasy quiet settling over the crowd, she prepared another, this time for Hiashi. He would understand. He would protect the civilians and mobilize the necessary shinobi the instant things turned.

In the far corner of the stadium, Aria caught sight of Shikaku Nara, his sharp eyes still following the aftermath of his son’s match. She knew at once that he, too, had already pieced the danger together. A man like him could never miss it. Still, there was no time for assumptions. With a brief flick of her hand, she directed a nearby ANBU operative toward the Jōnin commander’s position.

He needed to be warned—explicitly, immediately.

Because the storm was coming. And when it broke, every second would matter.

Shikamaru trudged into the tunnel that led back toward the benches where Chōji and Ino were waiting. The match was over, but the real drag was still ahead—if he didn’t show his face after the fight, Ino’s nagging would keep him awake for days.

He rubbed the back of his neck, stifling a yawn. The whole fight had been more troublesome than expected. Honestly, he hadn’t planned to give it that much effort. But thanks to his own stupidity, he’d ended up knowing more than he wanted. Once that happened, he had no choice but to go all in—or else deal with Ino reminding him every five minutes how pathetic he was.

The stairs felt like climbing a mountain. Each step was heavier than the last, and for a moment he thought about just collapsing on the spot. If he were a normal guy, maybe he’d push through and drop on a bench like everyone else. But he wasn’t normal—he was Shikamaru. Which meant leaning against the wall halfway up and saving what little energy he had left.

When he finally lifted his head, he caught sight of the arena below. The proctor, Genma, stood waiting with one of the participants. On the opposite side, an empty entrance gaped like a missing piece of the puzzle.

Sasuke Uchiha was late.

Shikamaru let out a long sigh of relief. Maybe it was fate. If he’d gone straight up to the stands, Ino would’ve been screaming in his ear right about now. At least here, in the tunnel, he had a little peace and quiet before the headache started.

Hinata glanced at her friends and saw the worry etched on their faces. Sasuke’s absence unsettled all of them—none of them could quite believe it. Sasuke would never simply skip a fight, especially not against someone like that Suna boy.

A quiet shiver ran down Hinata’s spine. She knew she was impressionable, but Gaara terrified her. His chakra didn’t just feel strong—it felt wrong, like it was soaked in darkness, swallowing everything it touched. And she wasn’t the only one who sensed it. Karin shifted restlessly in her seat, her usually sharp face clouded with unease. If someone like Karin, with her extraordinary sensory abilities, was reacting like this, Hinata knew her own fear wasn’t unfounded.

Out of everyone, Ino seemed the most agitated. Her anger grew sharper with every passing second, especially when the proctor announced that Sasuke would be disqualified if he didn’t appear soon. Beside her, Sakura sat in uncharacteristic silence. Sakura was never quiet unless she was deeply nervous, and Hinata’s heart tightened as she reached out, wanting to comfort her.

But before she could, a collective gasp swept through the crowd.

Hinata’s eyes snapped back to the arena just in time to see them—Kakashi-sensei and Sasuke, appearing at the entrance. They stood back-to-back, as if the entire world behind them had ceased to matter. And then, in the blink of an eye, Kakashi vanished, leaving only his student behind.

The match between Sasuke Uchiha and Gaara of the Sand had begun.

Naruto had just gotten up from the hospital bed. After his fight with Neji he had blacked out, but now his body felt fresh again, buzzing with energy as if nothing had happened. He was fired up—ready for the next fight, ready to prove himself all over again.

As he climbed the stairs toward the stands, he spotted a familiar face. Shikamaru was dragging his feet, shoulders hunched, muttering like every step was the biggest bother in the world.

“Oi, Shikamaru!” Naruto called.

The only reply was a bored, “What a drag…”

Naruto nearly exploded. Sometimes this guy really pissed him off. Still, they walked together toward their friends, and Shikamaru filled him in along the way. Sasuke still hadn’t shown up for his match.

“What?! Sasuke? Not show up?!” Naruto shouted, furious. But his anger was cut short when gasps spread through the stadium. At that exact moment, Kakashi appeared beside Sasuke, both standing tall in the arena.

Naruto let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Tch, finally…” he muttered, relief tangled with irritation.

By the time he reached the stands, his friends greeted him warmly. Even Karin was there, which made him grin. He plopped down between them, fists clenched in anticipation.

“Alright, now I just gotta watch Sasuke beat this guy’s ass,” Naruto said, his eyes locked on the arena. “Then it’s my turn. No way he’s escaping a fight with me.”

But then, all at once, something shifted. The cheering crowd blurred in his ears. His eyelids grew heavy, a strange, irresistible drowsiness seeping into his body. His head dipped forward.

“What the—?” Naruto mumbled, trying to shake it off. But it was useless. A genjutsu had already wrapped around him.

Unseen by him, Kabuto’s hand flicked through subtle seals from within the crowd, the Temple of Nirvana washing over the stadium like a silent wave. One by one, the villagers and shinobi slumped into sleep.

Naruto’s vision went black, his excitement ripped away in an instant.

Chapter Text

Sasuke could feel his chakra roar around him, trying to protect him from Gaara’s sand, but it was useless. His attacks were fast, but Gaara’s defense was unbreakable. Still, giving up was not an option. He couldn’t.

He needed to get stronger. If he gave up now, he would never be able to kill that traitor and avenge his clan. And if he couldn’t do that—then what was the point of his life? Nothing mattered unless he fulfilled that goal.

Gaara’s attacks grew heavier and more violent, each one laced with a killing intent that made the air thick and sharp. Sasuke could feel it—this boy wasn’t holding back. He was trying to kill him.

He remembered Kakashi’s voice in the back of his head, the endless training sessions that had left him on the edge of collapse. He had drilled that one jutsu into him, again and again, until it became a part of him. Now was the time to use it. Even if it meant killing Gaara, even if it meant losing himself in the process.

As he began to form the seals, the air shifted. Chakra tensed all around him, pulling his attention away. His Sharingan caught it immediately—a distortion, spreading fast. Someone had cast a genjutsu, but not directly on him.

He looked up. All around the stadium, people started to slump over in their seats, their heads hanging low as if they had fallen asleep. Even from where he stood, he could see that idiot Naruto snoring away in the stands.

Something was happening. Something big.

His eyes darted toward the Hokage’s section. The air there felt heavier than anywhere else. ANBU were already on the move, their chakra sharp and ready. Sasuke looked back at Gaara, whose sand began to twist and tremble around him, darker, heavier—almost alive.

Whatever was coming, it wasn’t just a match anymore.

Aria wasn’t surprised that something like this happened. Honestly, she had been expecting it. But now, all she could do was stay still and pretend that she was caught in it like everyone else. She had to admit—the genjutsu was strong, but she had faced worse.

The ANBU stationed nearby were already on the move. Yugao was leading them, and Aria knew she would perform flawlessly. Losing someone dear had sharpened her, made her fierce, and yes—it was cruel to think like that, but sentimentality wouldn’t protect the village.

She had to wait. Acting too soon would only ruin everything.

With a steady breath, she activated her Byakugan, letting the world come into focus. From her position, she could see it all: Anko hidden near the VIP section, poised and alert; the Hyūga elders slumped under the illusion, their chakra signatures flickering weakly. Only Hiashi and Reaina remained conscious—exactly as expected.

Her gaze drifted toward the stands. Sakura’s chakra pulsed unevenly, but it was fighting back against the genjutsu. That girl had potential, and Aria couldn’t help but feel a spark of pride. Nearby, Naruto’s chakra flared wildly, Hinata’s right beside his, trying to resist the illusion’s grip. They would wake soon. She wasn’t worried about them.

What did worry her was the Suna boy. His chakra was unraveling—frantic, broken, suffocating. He was slipping into psychosis, and if he lost control here, the One-Tail would surface. If that happened, the village wouldn’t survive the aftermath.

And then she felt it—faint, but unmistakable. The chakra coming from the Kazekage. It was familiar in the worst possible way. Reptilian, heavy, dark. Orochimaru.

He’d hidden it well, but not well enough. With her Byakugan active, Aria could see the cracks in his disguise.

Anko’s chakra flared across the arena a moment later—confirmation. She’d noticed too.

Then chaos began. Suna and Oto shinobi dropped their disguises, moving with deadly precision. The invasion had started.

So much for waiting.

Aria’s eyes sharpened. Her orders were clear: protect the village. If Orochimaru was here, his target was obvious—the Uchiha boy. But she also knew that leaving Gaara behind in this state would be catastrophic.

She jumped down into the arena as sand whirled around her. A Chidori ripped through the air—Sasuke’s—and she twisted to avoid it, landing between him and Gaara. Her palms glowed with chakra as she struck Gaara’s chest in a flash of precision, sealing his chakra flow and forcing the beast inside him into silence. For a heartbeat, the boy’s eyes cleared—confusion flickering behind madness.

Then she grabbed both of them— and ran.

Sand exploded behind her as she moved, dodging kunai and shuriken, chakra roaring under her feet. The ANBU would hold the first wave, Yagura and Anko would engage, but she had to get these two out—far from Orochimaru’s reach.

She could feel the weight of their chakra—one filled with rage and vengeance, the other with instability and pain. Two children caught in someone else’s war.

Aria didn’t look back. She didn’t have time to. The only thing that mattered now was getting them to safety.

Because she would not—under any circumstance—let those bastards win.

The kunai pressed against his throat felt colder than ever before.

He had already suspected it was Orochimaru sitting beside him, but seeing his former student’s face with his own eyes made the truth hit like a collapsing world. Every part of him—the shinobi, the teacher, the old man who had once believed in that boy—felt the weight of failure settle in.

“You’ve truly become a despicable monster, Orochimaru,” Hiruzen said quietly, his voice steady despite the blade at his neck.

Orochimaru smiled that same smile he had worn as a child when caught doing something he shouldn’t. “Why, hello to you too, Hiruzen-sensei.”

Hiruzen didn’t waste time. “Let’s not play games. What do you want? Why attack the village? And why come disguised as the Kazekage?”

He already knew the answers—or rather, he knew he wouldn’t get them—but asking bought Aria precious time. If she was doing what he thought she was, every second counted.

Orochimaru’s grin widened, his golden eyes glinting like a predator’s. “It’s not as if you’ll live long enough to tell the tale, sensei. So why waste the breath?”

The snake struck before Hiruzen could react—fast and deliberate. Its fangs sank deep into his leg, venom spreading like fire through his veins. He felt the sting immediately, a sharp pain blooming under his skin.

He knew better than to panic. Orochimaru’s poisons were rarely meant to kill outright. They were meant to weaken—to humiliate.

And Hiruzen Sarutobi refused to die like that.

His chakra flared, burning the poison away as best he could. The time for words had ended.

He straightened his back and met his student’s gaze.

“If you think this old man will die quietly,” he said, “then you’ve forgotten who taught you everything you know.”

Sasuke was confused and furious. He had no idea what had just happened—but he knew enough to be angry about it.

That crazy woman had thrown him over her shoulder like a sack of rice, carrying both him and the Suna boy without a second thought. She didn’t even look back as she sprinted forward, her grip so tight he could barely breathe.

By the time they crossed the village perimeter, she had increased her speed, running with single-minded focus. Sasuke thought she was acting without direction, but soon the familiar trees and shadows told him otherwise—the Forest of Death. The same cursed place where everything had first gone wrong.

She finally stopped, lowering him roughly onto the ground before setting Gaara beside him. Without hesitation, she struck Gaara’s tenketsu points,again, with precision—the Gentle Fist shutting down his chakra network completely. The Suna boy slumped, his breathing shallow but stable.

Sasuke opened his mouth, ready to yell at her, but the look on her face stopped him. Anger was there, yes—but beneath it burned something colder. Resolve.

“Tell me, kid,” she said, her voice calm but edged with steel, “do you want revenge?”

As she spoke, her hands worked swiftly—binding Gaara with sealing chains,  ,her chakra steady and controlled.

Sasuke blinked, caught off guard. Before he could respond, she continued.

“Orochimaru attacked the village. He plans to use this boy to destroy it—and to take you in the process. I don’t know what he wants exactly, but it’s clear he’s after your Sharingan. It’s powerful, yes, but you’re nowhere near ready to protect yourself from someone like him.”

Her eyes met his, unflinching.

“If you really want to avenge your family one day, you’ll listen to my orders. Is that clear?”

Sasuke’s jaw tightened. Every part of him rebelled against being treated like a child, yet something in her tone made him stop. Maybe it was the calm certainty, or maybe—just maybe—he could sense the truth in her words.

He didn’t answer right away. But when he finally did, it wasn’t defiance—it was resolve.

“…Understood.”

For the past few hours, Anko had been on edge. Every instinct in her screamed that something was coming — and now that her worst suspicions were confirmed, she struggled to hold herself together. Orochimaru.

The very thought of his name made her stomach twist. She wanted him dead — wanted to see the life drain from his eyes — but being this close to him again reminded her of just how deep his poison still ran. How much of her he had broken.

Her fists clenched as she forced herself to breathe. Get a grip, Mitarashi. There were others to protect now — people counting on her. She couldn’t afford to freeze up like the terrified girl she once was.

Even if his presence still made her skin crawl, she would fight. She would defend this village, the one he had betrayed, and the people he now sought to destroy. No matter what it cost her.

Maybe she carried his mark — maybe she still bore the remnants of his curse — but she was nothing like him. She never would be.

If she could face him and stand her ground, if she could protect even one life from his reach… that would be her revenge. The best kind. The kind her old teammates would have been proud of.

And when the signal came from the Hokage, she’d be ready.

Sakura knew she was trapped in a genjutsu. She could feel it — that strange, heavy stillness pressing against her mind. Something was happening, something big and terrible, but she couldn’t let fear consume her. She had to wake up.

Gathering her chakra, she focused it sharply, then disrupted it all at once. The genjutsu shattered. Her senses snapped back into place, and immediately she felt the chaos around her — the clash of chakra, the raw pressure of battle far beyond her level.

She opened her eyes just slightly. Kurenai-sensei was already fighting, standing between a group of civilians and several Suna shinobi. Her movements were sharp and fluid, a constant dance of red and steel. Sakura knew better than to get in her way.

Quietly, she reached out and touched Hinata’s leg, sending a small burst of chakra into her to break the illusion. Hinata blinked rapidly, regaining focus. Sakura then leaned over and did the same to Ino. All three of them stayed perfectly still, pretending to remain unconscious.

At least, they were pretending — until Naruto woke up.

The orange blur beside her bolted upright, yelling at the top of his lungs. Sakura nearly smacked her forehead. Ino immediately yelled back, and if it weren’t for the fact that the village was under attack, Sakura might’ve been embarrassed by how loud the two of them were.

Hinata’s quiet sigh said it all — she was just as disappointed.

But there was no time for that. Sakura crawled toward Choji and Kiba, waking them from genjutsu. By now, Naruto and the others were already clashing with Suna shinobi, doing their best to protect the civilians.

Karin stirred next, her eyes snapping open. The fear on her face said everything. She could sense the bloodlust and the chaos more vividly than anyone else.

Sakura turned to wake Shikamaru — but the moment she reached out, she froze. A thick, creeping chakra was approaching fast. Her heart skipped a beat, but she didn’t need to panic — a flash of silver appeared in front of her. Kakashi-sensei.

“Are you okay, Sakura?” he asked, his voice calm even as he fought off two enemies at once.

“Yes, sensei! I’m fine — I just need to wake Shikamaru!”

She tried again, this time shaking him, but he didn’t respond. Panic crept in — until Kakashi’s ninken, Pakkun, leapt up and bit Shikamaru’s arm.

He yelped. Loudly.

“You were asleep?!” Sakura shouted.

“I’m tired, okay?” he muttered groggily, rubbing his arm. But as soon as he glanced behind her and saw the battlefield in flames, he sighed deeply. “What a drag…”

Still, he got up — because even for him, there was no sleeping through this.

As the chaos of battle filled the stadium, Sakura tried to steady her breathing. The air was thick with dust and smoke, the sound of explosions and kunai colliding echoing from every direction. The weight of the genjutsu still lingered on her skin — the haze that had made her feel like she was trapped inside her own mind. Around her, the others were stirring too, shaking it off with effort. Only Shikamaru looked half-asleep, muttering something about how troublesome this all was.

Then Kakashi-sensei appeared in front of them ,again, in a flicker of chakra. His posture was calm, but the tension in his voice made every word sharp.

“Good, you’re all awake,” he said. “Don’t panic. The situation’s bad, but we were ready for it.”

Naruto blinked, looking around at the panicked crowd and the sound of battle outside the arena walls. “What the hell’s going on?!”

Kakashi’s visible eye narrowed. “Suna and Oto shinobi. Orochimaru is leading the invasion.”

Even for Naruto, that name was enough to shut him up.

Sakura clenched her fists. “And Sasuke? Where is he?!”

Kakashi exhaled through his mask. “Aria took him — and the Suna boy. She’s getting them both out of the village perimeter. It was her call . You’ll have to trust her.”

Naruto looked like he wanted to protest, but one glance from Kakashi silenced him.

The Copy Ninja continued, his tone clipped and precise: “Because of Aria’s warning, our jonin were already mobilized before the genjutsu hit. Shikaku Nara is commanding defensive units, Asuma and Kurenai are protecting civilians, and the ANBU are fighting near the Hokage Tower. The chunin squads are handling evacuation and containment. We’re stretched thin, but organized. Hokage-sama will be engaging Orochimaru in a fight.”

Suddenly, another figure landed beside Kakashi with a crash loud enough to make the ground tremble. Bushy eyebrows, a bowl cut, and a green jumpsuit — there was no mistaking him.

“Maito Gai, reporting for duty!” he shouted, striking a ridiculous pose even in the middle of battle. “Kakashi! I’ve already cleared the eastern wall! The enemy is pouring in from the forest outskirts!”

Kakashi nodded, relief flickering across his face. “Good timing, Gai. Leave your Genins here and reinforce the perimeter. “

“Understood, my eternal rival!” Gai bellowed, already turning to leap away, his students  , Neji and Tenten staying behind .

Kakashi turned back to the group before him — his voice dropped an octave, suddenly far more serious. “Listen carefully. I’m giving you all your orders now.”

Sakura straightened immediately, Hinata’s pale eyes focused, and Naruto’s frown deepened.

“Hinata, Neji,” Kakashi said, his tone sharp but respectful. Both Hyūga looked up at him. “You’re with your clan now. Hiashi-sama has orders from the Hokage — there are enemy infiltrators disguised as Konoha shinobi. You’ll use your Byakugan to expose and eliminate them. Keep civilians out of the crossfire. You understand?”

Hinata nodded quickly. “Yes, Kakashi-sensei.”

Neji’s expression stayed calm, but his jaw tightened slightly. “Understood.”

“Good,” Kakashi said, then shifted his gaze toward the others. “Sakura, Ino, Choji, Shikamaru, Kiba, Tenten and Naruto — you’ll assist Kurenai and Asuma. Help the chunin squads evacuate civilians and defend the inner sectors. Stay together and don’t take unnecessary risks and Karin , we will have to ask for your help with healing some civilians , of course if it’s okay with you”

“Yes, I will “ The redhead answered .

Naruto frowned. “But what about—”

Kakashi cut him off. “Orochimaru is after the Hokage and Sasuke. You’ll only get in the way if you chase him. Protect the people — that’s your job right now.”

For once, Naruto didn’t argue. His eyes burned with frustration, but he nodded.

Kakashi gave a final glance toward the chaos above. “Remember — no heroics. Survive and protect the village. That’s an order.”

And with that, he vanished — leaving behind only a faint swirl of smoke.

For a heartbeat, the world stood still. Then the crash of another explosion tore through the stadium.

Gai’s voice echoed faintly in the distance, rallying his team of chunins, while the newly awakened genins formed up in tight formation.

Hinata turned to Neji. Their eyes met for just a second — a silent understanding between cousins.

“Let’s go,” he said quietly.

Hinata nodded, activating her Byakugan. “Right.”

As they sprinted toward the Hyūga sector, the others moved in the opposite direction, ready to defend the heart of Konoha. The invasion had begun in earnest — and there was no turning back.

They had been in this god-forsaken forest for only a few minutes before she sensed two chakras creeping their way toward them. The two of them were Gaara’s older siblings.

Now, they were kids, so naturally Aria didn’t really want to harm them—but she had to incapacitate them.

“Hey, kid,” she said, locking eyes with Sasuke. “We’ve got some guests. Mind lending me your hand?”. Boy’s eyes flared with excitement at the thought of action.

Right after Aria finished preparing, she sensed an attack coming from the east. A wind-style jutsu—strong, but nothing a rotation couldn’t block. While she deflected it, she let the Uchiha boy handle the puppeteer for a few seconds.

Soon, both of them went down. They were definitely above the average genin level, but still inexperienced.

Before tying them up, she knocked them out. She surely didn’t have the nerves to deal with whiny kids right now—and there was no way those two would believe her explanation anyway.

Now she was left with one gloomy preteen, clearly dissatisfied that the only thing he got to do was deal with the puppet boy while she stopped their sister in a single move.

Aria exhaled and activated her Byakugan, hoping to see what was happening in the village.

What she saw made her blood run cold.

The Third Hokage was fighting not only Orochimaru—but also two others whose chakra felt ancient and terrifying, even from afar.

Orochimaru’s snakes tore through most of the arena’s roof, shattering the tiles like paper. The ANBU quickly formed a barrier, sealing Hiruzen and his former student inside. Now was the time—he would stop him once and for all.

After only a few exchanges, Hiruzen could already feel exhaustion creeping deep into his bones. He was old, after all. If only Jiraiya had agreed to become Hokage after the Fourth’s death… maybe the village would have been in better shape. But now was not the time to rethink his life.

Another of Orochimaru’s snakes lunged forward, its fangs sinking into his arm. The sting of venom burned through his veins, but he endured it. With a steady breath, he formed a few seals.

“Summoning Jutsu!”

In a puff of smoke, the Monkey King Enma appeared, springing into action immediately, striking at Orochimaru with his staff and pushing him back from the civilians below.

Still, Orochimaru’s attacks grew stronger—faster, more unpredictable—while Hiruzen’s body faltered under the weight of age and injury. Yet he did not give up. If he was to die, then he would make sure Orochimaru went down with him.

But fate was a cruel joke.

Orochimaru’s hands formed a sequence of seals—ones Hiruzen recognized all too well, though he had never seen them completed. As the final sign was made, the ground beneath them cracked open, and two coffins began to rise from the earth.

“No…” Hiruzen whispered, horror freezing his breath.

With one last seal, Orochimaru smiled.

The Reanimation Juts had been completed.