[5 Years Before Present Day]
"If you're a Hyuga, then show us your Byakugan!"
Her eyes stung.
She clasped her hands close, eyes darting about.
"I-I…"
She gulped once, and her lips trembled. Her father's voice boomed in her head.
You are the heir to the main clan, Hinata. It's high time that you carry yourself as such. Kindness will get you nowhere in this world.
But fainter—barely a whisper—her mother's words came to mind.
There's enough bloodshed and cruelty in this world, Hinata. Be that smidge of missing kindness, make friends, talk things out, and maybe things will become better.
Hinata remembered the hope she felt that day. Looking into the eyes of her assembled classmates, she saw none of what her mother had spoken of. Her stomach clenched, edging closer to her ribcage.
"I-I…"
"But if you're not, don't look at us." Nobu stomped to the front of the pack with a mocking grin.
"Your eyes are really freaky, huh… Byakugan Monster!"
Hinata gasped—but it came out as a whimper.
The bully blinked and then snickered.
She squeezed her eyes shut, heat exploding across their lids. Her heart hammered in her chest. Never in her life had she expected to hear her clan's prized ability be insulted… and insulted because of her. She wished she were anywhere but here: in the middle of the playground, surrounded by their loud, cruel laughter.
Her father's lessons were at the forefront of her mind.
Always there, so cold and stern.
But Hinata could not adhere to them.
No, she never could. Never enough, always falling short of his expectations—their expectations. Her throat trembled with the weight of her fear—a thousand unspoken words strangled.
She opened her eyes to a blurred world, surrounded by her classmates—people she thought she could become friends with.
It was why all of this had begun.
Foolishly, she had hoped that maybe… she could have fun here.
Hinata might not have been very social during the first term, but this was her chance! The invitation to come and play at least allowed some escape from her father's demanding gaze.
Unfortunately, it proved to be the same. Maybe worse, because no one there—save for Neji—had spoken to her like this before.
The circle inched closer, looming over her. Hinata's head swiveled around. Everywhere she looked, she saw unbridled glee at her suffering. In one step, the bully was in front of her, breaching the gap between her and them. His hot breath washed over her face and she stumbled.
She looked up, paralyzed.
His form blotted out the sky, casting an intimidating darkness over everything.
"Lookie here, everyone! The Byakugan Monster's crying!"
Hinata closed her eyes.
No one would come to help her, and she could not help herself. Their laughter washed over her.
Her eyes burned.
A fresh wave of hot tears seeped out, trailing burning paths down the sides of her face.
Her father was right.
She would never be enough.
Not for him, not for them… or herself.
"Enough."
The laughter stopped.
Everyone turned toward the voice that suddenly rang out.
Through her tears, Hinata first saw a blur of orange. As her vision cleared, the details emerged: spiky blonde hair and an orange and blue jacket with white fur trim around the collar. Beneath that, a black shirt peeked out, and his outfit was completed with dark blue shorts and blue ninja sandals.
It was him—the loud boy from class who had been punished on the first day.
What was he doing here? Helping her. But why?
Nobu clenched his fists. "Leave now, you orange clown."
"That's it, no one insults orange!" Naruto screamed, charging toward them.
Hinata closed her eyes, knowing this wouldn't end well. She could hear the conflict—the sounds of fists meeting flesh. Peeking through her lashes, she saw Naruto outnumbered, getting beaten by the three kids. Yet, he fought back relentlessly; for every three kicks he received, he managed to deliver one in return. Dirt clung to his clothes as he was scuffed and scraped in the scuffle, but he didn't give up.
Why was he fighting so hard?
Hinata's mind was a battleground of conflicting teachings: her father's cynical words about the absence of kindness in the world clashed violently with her mother's gentle urging to talk things out and make friends.
Amid the chaos of these memories, the real world around her echoed with the harsh sounds of conflict—fists striking flesh, grunts of effort, and the harsh laughter of bullies. Yet through the violence, Hinata's eyes locked onto the bright blue eyes of Naruto, a boy who was fighting against the odds. He wasn't just fighting; he was defending someone else, standing up for her when he had nothing to gain.
This wasn't the selfish violence her mother despised—it was a selfless act of bravery.
'I want to be like that,' she thought. 'To have the will to keep fighting, not just for myself, but for others.'
Stand up and fight!
With trembling legs, she tried to rise, her heart pounding so loudly it filled her ears and drowned out the noise of the playground.
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Today, she decided, she would be brave—brave like the boy before her. Hinata activated her Byakugan. Her veins bulged near her temples, as she adopted the stance of the Gentle Fist. Every muscle and fiber in her body aligned with her intent as she lunged toward Nobu, the lead bully.
But her feet slipped, sending her crashing into the cold snow.
The fall was hard, the chill of the snow seeping through her clothes, mixing with the dirt to stain her outfit. Her frustration mounted as she lay there, feeling helpless and humiliated.
The bullies laughed mercilessly at the sight. "Two freaks in a pod," they jeered as they walked away, their laughter echoing behind them.
Hinata stared at the ground, overwhelmed by the mocking laughter still echoing in her ears. Her attempted bravery, her stand—it all seemed foolish now.
Why did she even bother?
"Thank you."
The voice broke through her reverie, pulling her gaze upward. Naruto stood before her, bruised and battered, a fresh cut above his eye threatening to bleed, yet his smile was warm and genuine.
"Why?" The word slipped out before Hinata could stop it.
"Why what?"
"Why thank me?"
"Because you thank someone for helping you."
Hinata felt her heart race; the simplicity of his gratitude was unexpected.
"T-T-Thank you," she managed to say, her stutter more pronounced under the weight of her emotions.
Naruto waved off her thanks casually. "It's the duty of the Hokage to save anyone in trouble."
"Hokage?"
"Nice to meet you, my name is Naruto Uzumaki, the future Hokage of Konoha." His confidence was palpable, radiating a surety that Hinata found both enviable and inspiring. Before she could introduce herself, a hand clasped her shoulder.
"Lady Hinata, let's go."
Her guard was insistent, his grip firm as he began to pull her away while sending a sharp glare at Naruto. Naruto, unfazed by the guard's hostility, simply waved at her.
Watching him, Hinata felt something stir within her—a desire to possess that same resilience and disregard for others' scorn. As they moved away, Hinata felt a sharp sting on her knee, a reminder of her fall. The cold winter air aggravated the scrape, making it painfully evident.
She glanced back at Naruto, noticing his cut again and thinking about the pain he was ignoring.
That will hurt.
Suddenly remembering the unique sensitivity of her clan's eyes to bright light, particularly in winter when sunlight reflected off snow, she impulsively removed her green goggles. The Hyuga were advised to wear goggles in such conditions to protect their sensitive eyes.
She tossed the goggles to a surprised Naruto, motioning for him to wear them.
As her guard started to protest, Hinata summoned every bit of her courage.
"If you say anything, I'll let my father know that because of you I got hurt," she declared firmly, pointing to her scraped knee. The guard blanched, his authority wavering.
"Yes, l-lady Hinata."
Over the next few years, Hinata tried to gather the courage to speak to Naruto, but she never managed to do it. Sometimes she joked to herself that she had used up all her bravery that day when she threatened her guard. Despite her fears, Hinata still yearned to be Naruto's friend, but every time an opportunity arose, her insecurities would overwhelm her.
Then, one day, she noticed Naruto had left his Kunai and Shuriken Bukijutsu scrolls in the classroom, and he hadn't been there for the entire class just before lunch. Seizing what she saw as a golden opportunity, Hinata grabbed the scrolls with the intent of returning them to him.
This was her chance to make the first move toward friendship.
She started by checking all his usual hangouts, but Naruto was nowhere to be found. Hinata even activated her Byakugan, scanning the area far and wide for any sign of him. To her surprise, she located him in the library—a place she'd never known him to visit.
Naruto in the library? It didn't make sense. Nonetheless, she shrugged off her confusion and ran toward the library, scrolls in hand. Today, she decided, she would finally step beyond her fears.
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[Present Day]
[Hyuga Clan]
Traditional wooden structures with gently curved roofs surrounded the area, their dark wood contrasting with the lighter-colored paper sliding doors. Stone paths weaved through meticulously maintained gardens, leading to various parts of the compound. On the training grounds, under the watchful eye of her master, Hinata was practicing the gentle fist. She moved with more vigor than usual.
Hinata cast a quick glance at Hikari, one of her trainers. Although her father was her primary instructor, his duties as the clan head often kept him too occupied to train her consistently. As a result, retired ninjas like Hikari stepped in to fill the role of her other master.
"Is something wrong, Lady Hinata?"
Hinata hesitated, then asked, "Master Hikari, do you know anything about Uzushiogakure?"
Hikari's expression changed, a hint of surprise in his eyes.
"That's a name I haven't heard in a long time."
"Can you tell me more about it?"
Hikari shrugged, his voice casual as he spoke. Hinata had finished her sets, and the information wasn't some closely guarded state secret.
"Uzushiogakure was once one of the great ninja villages. It was our sister village, the alliance between Konoha and Uzushiogakure allowed Konoha to expand its borders diplomatically. Sadly, Uzushiogakure was destroyed, leading to the Third Great Ninja War."
Hinata's eyes widened in shock. "Why don't we learn this in school if Uzushiogakure played such a significant role in our history?"
"Anger. We don't teach the next generation because it brings anger to our elders. Uzushiogakure is a black dot in Konoha's history. Many blame Uzushiogakure for their losses during the war – the loss of their children, their families. People just want to blame and forget. I was a genin when the Third War broke out. I lost many friends. Like others, I wanted to blame my anger on something, but blaming a destroyed village that once was our ally isn't right."
Hinata nodded, absorbing his words with a sad expression.
"What does Uzushiogakure have to do with the Uzumaki Clan?"
Hikari narrowed his eyes, sensing something more behind her question. "Why are you asking about this, Hinata?"
Startled by his intense gaze, Hinata stammered, "I-I'll get back to training," quickly returning to her practice. Hikari scratched his head, wondering why Hinata was suddenly so interested in a long-forgotten village and clan.
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Iruka walked into the Great Konoha Library, his status as a Chunin granting him easy access. The library was a vast, impressive building, its high ceilings supported by grand columns. Rows upon rows of bookshelves stretched as far as the eye could see, filled with an endless collection of books. Sunlight streamed through large windows, illuminating the quiet, scholarly atmosphere.
Approaching the front desk, Iruka spotted a familiar face among the stacks of books. "Shiho, is that you?"
Shiho looked up, a smile spreading across her face. "Oh, Iruka-sensei, long time no see! What brings you here?"
"I just wanted to grab some books. How have you been?"
"Not much, just studying," Shiho replied, adjusting the stack of books beside her.
"Oh, is this a hobby of yours?"
"Part-time job, actually. I'm trying to get into the Konoha Cryptanalysis Team," she explained.
"Well, I'm ashamed I can't help my star student."
"Come on, sensei, don't flatter me. I was just good in academics," Shiho said modestly. "Do you need help finding a specific book?"
"Yeah, is there anything about Uzushiogakure?"
Shiho paused, quickly browsing through the library's registry. "Section Z, Row 7, Column 9. There's only one book about Uzushiogakure."
"Thank you," Iruka said, heading off in the direction she indicated.
Shiho watched him go, her gaze returning to the registry. The location of the book about Uzushiogakure seemed peculiar. It was in the last section of the library, a rarely visited area with old, outdated books that were never maintained because they were simply kept for archival purposes. It was odd – almost as if someone wanted to make it hard to find.
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Iruka walked for what felt like an eternity to reach Section Z. The deeper he ventured into the library, the more the environment changed. The air grew musty, filled with the smell of mold and old paper. The lighting was poor in this part of the library, leaving much of it shrouded in darkness. Dust motes danced in the few shafts of light that penetrated the gloom. Piles of neglected books lay scattered about, and cobwebs adorned the corners of the shelves and ceiling.
Finally reaching his destination, Iruka cautiously navigated through the piles, trying not to disturb the years of accumulated dust. He located the spot where the book about Uzushiogakure was supposed to be. The book he pulled from the shelf was old and tattered. Its cover was faded, with edges frayed and pages yellowed with age. The spine creaked as he opened it, revealing that many of the pages were barely legible, the ink faded and smudged.
One page, however, caught his eye. It had a faint image of a swirling crimson symbol, barely visible. "Huh? Why is this symbol here?"
He then remembered the back of his own Chunin vest. It bore the same swirling symbol. Iruka had always thought that the symbol represented Konoha's unity — different people swirling into one for the protection of the village. But seeing it here, in a book about Uzushiogakure, made him question everything.
"Could this symbol be related to Uzushiogakure?"
The thought that this symbol, which he and many others had worn for years without truly understanding its origin, might have a deeper connection to the long-forgotten village of Uzushiogakure was both intriguing and unsettling.
Iruka carefully closed the book. He realized there was much more to learn about the village's history and its connection to Konoha — a history that had been lost or deliberately obscured over time.