001 Welcome to Japan - Hinata's POV
Hinata pulled her sunglasses down, adjusting them carefully over the bridge of her nose. They weren’t the best fit, but they did a decent job of obscuring her unusual eyes. She spared herself a glance in the convenience store's grimy breakroom mirror—pale skin, dark hair, a ratty hoodie pulled up close to her face. She looked nothing like a former kunoichi, much less a Hyūga heiress. But that was the point.
With a sigh, she tugged her hoodie tighter around her and stepped out of the store. The familiar ding of the automatic doors rang behind her as she emerged into the dimly lit street. The city—wherever they were—buzzed with artificial light, neon signs flickering above narrow sidewalks. The air smelled like exhaust, cheap food, and something acrid she still couldn’t place.
It had been over a month and a half since she and Naruto had dropped into this world. At first, she had held out hope—maybe a genjutsu, a time-space jutsu, maybe even a dream. But time kept passing, and no amount of chakra scanning or sealing techniques changed their circumstances.
Hinata had, of course, done her research. As much as anyone could without access to any actual information. The technology here was beyond anything she had ever seen, yet the people were still ordinary—no chakra, no shinobi, no clans vying for power. Her best theory was that they had either been displaced in time or caught in some strange reincarnation cycle.
Not that she knew enough about either to be certain.
She sighed again, waiting at the bus stop. The city never truly quieted, but this street had an uneasy stillness to it. The few people nearby kept their heads down, absorbed in their phones, uninterested in their surroundings.
That was when she noticed it.
A strange figure shuffled toward her, its shape slightly off, like it wasn’t entirely solid. It looked vaguely human—tall, gangly, but its limbs bent unnaturally. Its skin rippled like static on a broken screen.
“Diet pills,” it muttered in a scratchy voice. Its head tilted at an unnatural angle. “Diet pills… you want diet pills?”
Hinata stared. “No, thank you.”
The creature swayed closer, its presence warping the air around it. “Diet pills… free sample. Make you light as air…”
Hinata sighed. She had been hoping for a quiet evening.
In a blur of motion, she struck. A flick of her wrist, a precise step forward. Her fingers met the creature’s torso with a sharp thud—a Gentle Fist strike, straight to what she assumed was its chakra network.
The thing let out a garbled screech, its form distorting, then bursting into nothing. A thin wisp of smoke, and then—silence.
Hinata frowned. Killed? No… It didn’t feel like a kill. Exorcised?
Yeah. That sounded right.
She adjusted her sunglasses, pulling her hoodie closer again. The bus pulled up with a screech, its doors hissing open. She stepped inside without looking back.
This world had too many mysteries.
The bus ride was quiet, filled with the low hum of the engine and the occasional chatter of passengers. Hinata sat by the window, her hoodie pulled up, hands resting on her lap. The city lights blurred past, a neon haze reflecting off the rain-slicked streets.
Honestly, living here was tough.
She had read about Japan—this country, the one without shinobi, without chakra, without war. It was a world that should have been peaceful, yet somehow, it felt just as exhausting as the one she had left behind. The part-time jobs were grueling, her hours unpredictable. One shift ended, and another began. The pay barely covered her needs, let alone food and—most concerning—the growing pile of hospital bills.
Her grip tightened slightly. Naruto was still in a coma.
She exhaled slowly, steadying herself. The moment they had landed here—wherever here was—Naruto had collapsed. No injuries, no visible wounds, just… unconscious. A deep, unnatural sleep that no doctor could explain.
She had tried everything.
Chakra healing, pressure points, even old herbal remedies. Nothing worked. If she hadn’t checked his pulse herself, felt the steady beat beneath her fingertips, she might have thought—
No. He was alive.
The bus jolted to a stop, pulling her from her thoughts. With a quiet nod to the driver, she stepped off, the cool night air wrapping around her.
The hospital loomed ahead, its fluorescent lights stark against the dark sky. She had memorized this path—the sliding doors, the sterile scent, the hum of machines. She barely paid attention as she entered, moving on instinct.
The staff knew her by now. A few nurses greeted her, some with pity in their eyes, others with quiet understanding. She forced a small smile and made her way to the elevator.
As the doors slid open, she hesitated.
A soft sniffle reached her ears.
Just outside the elevator, on a bench near the waiting area, a pink-haired kid sat hunched over, their shoulders shaking. He looked about her age, maybe a little younger. His hands clutched the fabric of his pants tightly, as if trying to ground himself.
Hinata recognized that kind of grief.
She glanced toward the elevator panel, then back at the kid. For a brief moment, she considered saying something. But what could she offer? Words had never been her strength.
This world was strange. These creatures that lurked in the shadows, the way reality sometimes felt… off. She was constantly on edge, never truly resting. If it weren’t for the kindness of a few people, and her own relentless effort, she wasn’t sure she could keep going.
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Hinata hesitated for only a moment before walking away.
She had her own worries.
The pink-haired kid’s muffled sobs faded behind her as she moved toward the elevator, her footsteps quiet against the polished floor. She felt sympathetic, of course—grief was an old companion, one she understood too well. But right now, she had no space in her heart for anyone else’s sorrow.
Would she cry like that too?
If she ever realized there was no way for Naruto to wake up?
Her hands clenched into fists at the thought.
No.
Naruto would wake up. Just like he always did. Just like he always had.
She stepped off the elevator, making her way down the sterile, dimly lit hallway. Her fingers brushed the cool metal of the door handle before she pushed it open.
And then she froze.
Naruto was sitting up.
The blankets were rumpled, the IV still attached to his arm, but his back was straight, and his gaze was distant as he stared out the window. The moonlight outlined his familiar golden hair, casting soft shadows over his face.
For a moment, Hinata couldn't breathe.
“Naruto-kun…?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Slowly, he turned toward her. His blue eyes blinked a few times, as if adjusting to the light. His expression was blank, unreadable.
And then—
“Who are you?”
The tears that had threatened to spill from Hinata’s eyes twisted into something else entirely. Her breath hitched, but she clasped a hand over her mouth before any sound could escape.
Her vision blurred. She wiped the back of her sleeve against her cheeks in one swift motion, controlling her breathing with the discipline of a shinobi. Naruto didn’t seem to notice. He wasn’t looking at her closely enough.
Hinata was suddenly glad she wore sunglasses.
She had put them on to hide her eyes, but now—now, they hid something else.
Naruto blinked at her, confusion written all over his face. “Is there a problem?”
Hinata swallowed past the lump in her throat.
She took a step forward. Then another.
Before she could think, before she could stop herself, she crossed the room and wrapped her arms around him.
She felt his warmth, solid and real beneath her trembling hands. His heartbeat, steady and strong, thumped against her ear.
Hinata pressed her forehead against his shoulder, breathing him in.
“I missed you,” she whispered. The words were fragile, almost breaking apart as they left her lips. “I missed you so much.”
For a moment, Naruto didn’t move. Then, slowly, his arms came around her.
The embrace was hesitant at first—light, uncertain. But then, he pulled her closer. Tighter.
Neither of them said anything.
They just held onto each other. A second. And a second longer.
Minutes passed in quiet warmth.
Hinata felt Naruto’s heartbeat against her cheek, steady and familiar. His grip was solid, as if she might disappear if he let go. She clutched the back of his hospital gown, afraid to move, afraid that if she did, this moment would shatter into something less than real.
Then—
“Uh, Hinata-chan?” Naruto’s voice was hesitant. “Not that I’m complainin’ or anything—huggin’ a pretty girl like you is nice and all, ya know?”
Hinata froze.
His verbal tic. That familiar, boyish speech pattern.
It was so him.
A quiet, relieved laugh almost escaped her lips. Then, realization hit.
He had just called her pretty.
Heat exploded across her face.
She shot back, practically stumbling over her own feet. Oh no.
Naruto blinked at her reaction, tilting his head. “Hey… are you sick or somethin’?”
Hinata hiccuped.
“I-I’m not sick,” she stammered, voice an octave higher than she intended. Her fists clenched at her sides. For a split second, she had the insane urge to punch him, but she quickly squashed it down.
She wasn’t a child anymore. She had self-control.
Calm down, Hinata.
She spun around, avoiding eye contact like her life depended on it. Her breathing slowed, measured and precise—just like when she used Gentle Fist. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
Finally, the heat in her cheeks settled to something manageable. She turned back to Naruto.
“Uuhh…” She blinked at him.
Naruto looked at her expectantly.
…What was the question again?
And more importantly—what was she supposed to say?!
Wait.
Wait, wait, wait.
Did Naruto just—
Hinata’s thoughts stuttered to a halt as realization struck.
He had called her Hinata.
She swallowed, her hands gripping the hem of her hoodie as she searched his face. “Naruto… why did you call me that?”
Naruto blinked, confused by the question. “Huh?”
“My name,” she clarified, stepping closer. “You called me Hinata… but how did you know that?”
Naruto scratched the back of his head, looking a little sheepish. “I dunno.” His brows furrowed slightly, as if trying to make sense of something just out of reach. “I don’t remember knowing your name, but when I looked at you, Hinata just felt… right, ya know?”
Hinata’s fingers curled.
If this was muscle memory… then what kind of muscle memory was it?
She didn’t have an answer, and that made her uneasy.
“Wait here,” she said, her voice firmer than before. “I need to call a nurse. Or a doctor.”
Naruto’s eyes widened. “Eh? Oi, oi, is that really necessary?”
But Hinata had already turned on her heel, her feet moving quickly toward the door. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, a steady drum of nerves and uncertainty.
Something about this situation wasn’t adding up.
And she needed answers.
Hinata stopped just as she reached the door.
She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. Calm down.
Rushing out wouldn’t solve anything. If Naruto had really lost his memories, she needed to confirm it first. And if he was pretending, she needed to know why.
With that in mind, she turned around and walked back to the hospital bed, forcing herself to be calm.
“Oi, what was that about?” Naruto asked, still looking a little confused.
Hinata ignored his question and sat down in the chair beside him. Her eyes, hidden behind her sunglasses, studied his face.
“Are you pretending?” she asked, voice steady.
Naruto blinked. “Huh?”
“Are you pretending to have lost your memories?” she repeated.
Naruto looked offended. “Why the hell would I do that?”
Hinata frowned, trying to ignore the sting in her chest. It had hurt when he looked at her earlier and asked who she was.
She crossed her arms. “Fine. Then answer some questions for me.”
Naruto looked wary. “Uh… okay?”
“What’s your favorite food?”
Naruto’s face brightened. “That’s easy! Curry! The hospital food is really good, ya know!”
Hinata’s brow twitched. Curry?!
She exhaled sharply and moved on. “Your favorite color?”
“Green!” Naruto answered confidently.
Green?
Why?!
Hinata’s patience thinned.
“Who was your first sensei?”
Naruto hummed, thinking for a second before answering, “Yamato?”
Hinata’s eye twitched. “And your second sensei?”
Naruto grinned. “Gai-sensei! Maybe?”
She gripped the armrest of the chair so hard it creaked.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
Everything was wrong.
Finally, she asked, “Who was your crush?”
Naruto stiffened. His grin faltered, and for the first time, a scared look crossed his face.
“…Hinata?” he answered hesitantly.
Silence.
A very long silence.
Hinata’s face turned beet red.
Why… why was that the answer he got wrong?! And why did he look scared when he said it?! She kind of hoped he’d get it right, but she was secretly happy… he was thinking her… But still…
Was there something to be scared of?!
Her brain short-circuited.
The next thing she knew, she had bolted out of the room, slamming the door behind her hard.
A startled thud came from inside, likely Naruto flinching at the sudden noise.
Panting, Hinata pressed her back against the wall, hands gripping her hoodie as if it could hide her.
“Shhh!”
She turned her head and locked eyes with an elderly woman in the next room, who was staring at her with an unimpressed expression.
The grandma raised a wrinkled finger to her lips. “You’re too loud, young lady.”
Hinata opened her mouth, then promptly closed it.
Without another word, she bowed stiffly and hurried down the hallway, her face still burning.