A/N: I am continuing this story for someone who is one and the same.
Glossary: Karasu - Crow
Music: Duran Duran - Shelter
Chapter 16 – Shelter
The single torch cast wavering shadows as Oshio Todou entered the underground chamber. Musty earth and aged metal permeated the air, mingling with the sharp bite of dried ink. In the silence, the mission dial's turbine groaned—its gears turning with an unsettling, almost organic sound. On the rough wall, it projected a ghostly real-time view of the abandoned Uchiha compound's entrance.
"Any news?" Todou's low voice seemed to reverberate off the cold stone. The Root operative, Yujiro, looked up from his monitoring position, his porcelain mask catching the torchlight with an eerie sheen. His cloak whispered against itself as he shifted.
"Our plan remains unchanged. Team Kakashi returns to Konoha today," Yujiro replied, his voice hollow behind the mask. "The mission failed, as anticipated."
Todou stepped closer, shadows deepening the lines around his narrowed eyes. His boots scraped softly against the gritty floor as the air grew tense. "And the Hyuuga girl?"
"She's with them." Yujiro's fingers drummed silently on the wooden desk. "I'll monitor if she enters the Uchiha Compound. Stay on standby. Danzou-sama's orders are explicit—engage the Hyuuga only when she's alone. Then proceed with the interrogation."
The torch sputtered, making shadows dance across their masks. Water dripped steadily into a hidden pool somewhere in the distance, marking time in Root's eternal twilight.
Two days later, they passed through Konoha's towering gates, the battle-scarred wooden barriers looming above them like ancient sentinels. The familiar path to the Hokage's office did not comfort Hinata as they entered the tower.
In Tsunade's office, sunlight cut through the blinds, striping the polished floor while the scent of old paper and ink permeated the air. Team Kakashi and Team Yamato stood before the Hokage's desk, exhaustion evident in their stance.
Tsunade studied each member; worry lines etched deep in her usually vibrant face. Her gaze lingered on their dark-circled eyes and Hinata's slumped shoulders.
"S-Rank Mission—Konoha File 283. Eight ninjas, two military units. Objective: the capture of S-Rank Criminals Uchiha Itachi or Uchiha Sasuke, alive. Report," she commanded, fatigue roughening her voice.
Kakashi stepped forward, his visible eye creased with weariness. "Mission failed, Hokage-sama. Neither target was retrieved." He paused, weighted by unspoken burdens. "However, we encountered Yakushi Kabuto... and a new Akatsuki member."
Tsunade's eyes narrowed. "Elaborate."
"Kabuto provided this." Kakashi presented a dark leather-bound book—an Akatsuki Bingo book. "He appears to want us to eliminate them."
Tsunade traced the embossed Akatsuki symbol. "And this new member?"
"We located Sasuke in Hidden Valley Village, but he escaped. The new Akatsuki member intercepted us after—one not listed in the Bingo book." Kakashi's voice tightened. "He wore an orange spiral mask with a single eye-hole. I saw the Sharingan."
"Another Uchiha?" Tsunade's voice cut through the air.
"Likely. He and Zetsu prevented us from reaching Itachi and Sasuke. Zetsu informed us..." Kakashi paused. "Sasuke killed Itachi."
The silence that followed was deafening. Tsunade's fingers curled against her desk. "Killed? You're certain?"
"Zetsu seemed credible," Kakashi replied grimly. "Sasuke's vengeance... it's complete."
Tsunade slammed the Bingo book down. "Itachi dead... and a new Uchiha in Akatsuki." Her sharp gaze found Kakashi. "This new Uchiha's abilities?"
"Unprecedented. He was untouchable—using some form of space-time ninjutsu for instant transportation."
The other squad members remained silent as Kakashi continued, "We followed traces of Amaterasu to an Uchiha hideout—ground zero of a massive chakra explosion."
"Amaterasu?" Tsunade's eyebrows rose. "The forbidden technique?"
"Yes. The hideout was destroyed, with no trace of either Uchiha. But given Zetsu's report and the masked man's subsequent actions..." Kakashi's head dipped slightly. "It must be true."
Tsunade's expression softened momentarily. "I understand, Kakashi. This situation... Itachi may no longer threaten Konoha, but..."
The weight of Itachi's death and Sasuke's darkness settled heavily in the room.
"We failed," Kakashi admitted roughly. "I accept full responsibility."
"Indeed." Tsunade's voice turned steely. "The mission failed. But blame can wait. For now, rest—and prepare for what's coming."
After parting with Shino and Kiba, Hinata walked alone to the Hyuuga mansion, her feet dragging against the sun-warmed asphalt. A gentle afternoon breeze carried Jasmine from the compound's gardens as the imposing gates materialized before her.
Beyond the barrier, pristine carpet grass stretched like a verdant sea, subduing the vibrant irises in their meticulously maintained beds. A towering pine reached toward the vast white sky as if the world were enclosed in a luminous dome.
This was never a home, Itachi's low voice echoed in her mind.
Only a house of painted lies. Yours is a lie too, he had said.
The man who had risked his life for her was gone now. The man who had orchestrated his own death, who had steeled himself through years of preparation—driven by something far more potent than the Will of Fire or any village propaganda could propel. And now she alone, save for Kakashi-sensei, carried the weight of this truth.
What could she do with such knowledge? It brought no peace, only a more profound ache.
Her trembling hand reached for the gate but stopped short, fingers hovering over the cold metal, lacking the will to push forward. The afternoon sun bore down, its heat stinging her exposed skin, yet her expression remained vacant. In the heavy stillness, only distant crickets dared to break the silence. Grief pressed down on her shoulders, making even the simplest movements feel monumental. She knew with crushing certainty that nothing within these walls could fill the void that had opened inside her.
"A house is not a home," she whispered to the empty air.
She took one step back, then another, before entirely turning away from the compound.
Hinata's sandals whispered against worn stone as she traversed the empty street. The late afternoon sun carved sharp shadows between buildings while a cool breeze carried autumn leaves and the smell of distant cooking fires. Her pale eyes absorbed every detail, the Hokage Monument towering above, its carved faces gilded in dying light.
The Uchiha compound's gates emerged as she rounded the corner. The clan's red and white fan emblem had faded to a ghost of its former glory. Weathered wood and wild vines spoke of abandonment, while deep gouges in the gateposts testified to past violence.
This was never a home. Itachi's voice resonated through her memories. Only a house of painted lies. Yours is a lie, too.
But he risked his life for me, she thought.
The compound's silence felt different here—deeper and more absolute than anywhere else in the village, as if the ground itself held its breath in remembrance. Musty wood and neglected gardens mingled with the sharp tang of rusting hinges.
He wanted me to see, she realized. To understand.
The gate creaked open beneath her touch, a rusty welcome into the abandoned sanctuary. The first house stood before her, its porch thick with dust, mold creeping up cement walls, and white paint aged to dingy beige.
As she slid open the door, a vision from Itachi's memories materialized—a woman sweeping an immaculate floor, looking up with a gentle smile. "You're back. How did your mission go?"
The apparition dissolved, leaving only the dusty hall. Further inside, chalk outlines still marked where Uchiha Fugaku and Mikoto had fallen, intertwined in death. Her stomach clenched.
This is too much...
A crow's call pierced the silence. Something about its tone made her pulse quicken.
Someone is coming... Danger...danger...
Hinata was startled, suddenly aware of her trespass. She teleported to the empty street and hurried away, unaware that the warning hadn't come from her instincts—but from something else, guiding her through the chaos.
The last rays of sunlight turned the river to molten gold—beautiful but a relentless reminder of time slipping away. Hinata shivered despite the warmth of the fading day.
As she arrived at a clearing, Hinata paused, captivated by the tranquility of the river flowing beneath the last remnants of the sunset. Gazing at the rippling water, she whispered, "Forgive me, Itachi-san."
A flash of movement caught her eye—a dark shape reflected in the murky water before her. Her head whipped up, and a startled gasp escaped her lips, a whimper lost in the sudden hush of the forest. A man cloaked in shadows, his face concealed behind a porcelain rat mask, stood mere inches from her face, his hand raised in a menacing claw, silencing her gasp..
Her heart hammered in her chest, and her breath caught in her throat. Before he could strike, Hinata whipped around; her Byakugan blazed, the veins around her eyes spider-webbing out as her vision sharpened. But the man was faster. He caught her outstretched arm mid-punch, his grip like iron, stopping her momentum cold. Her stomach lurched as his other hand clamped over her free wrist, pinning her arms against her back.
A surge of foreign chakra washed over her. Her vision blurred, fragmented images flashed before her eyes—flashes of steel illuminated by the moonlight, the chilling screams of innocents, the glint of Sharingan...
The truth she shared with Kakashi-sensei was being ripped raw from her very mind by this man! Hinata felt lightheaded, body trembling as she tried to wrench herself free from his iron clasp. In a desperate bid, her Byakugan connected to the man's eyes behind her in her 360-degree vision.
Other memories—not of hers—began to flood her senses. The vision of an elderly man with a bandaged right eye flashed in her mind's eye as the man with the rat mask. Root!
"Hyuuga Hinata must be investigated. Her...incursion into the Uchiha compound must be explained. Her memories hold the key. Extract whatever information you find regarding the Uchiha. Leave nothing to chance."
The man recoiled, a gasp escaping his lips as visions from Hinata flickered in his mind. His eyes narrowed, cold and calculating. "The Uchiha massacre," he hissed. "You had contact with Uchiha Itachi."
Her fingers twitched, balling into fists. A thought flashed in her mind—a desperate maneuver. With a sharp twist of her hips, she brought her leg up, then slammed her heel down on the man's foot with a stomach-churning crunch. He cried out in pain, his grip momentarily loosening as he staggered back. She managed to wrench her arms free.
With a swift motion,. she raised a hand and performed a seal. "Hakkeshou: Kaiten!" Chakra surged her tenketsu points, forming a whirling vortex of blue energy as she spun. The Root ANBU—caught entirely off guard—let out a startled cry as he was thrown backward when the force of rotating pure chakra grazed his body. He slammed into a tree with an appaling crack, bark splintering on impact. For a moment, there was only the sound of rustling leaves and both hers and the ANBU's ragged breathing.
He recovered quickly, his form blurring as he closed the distance between them. Late afternoon light glinted off his kunai as he thrust it forward in a deadly arc. Hinata tried to twist away, but exhaustion had dulled her usually lightning-quick reflexes.
White-hot pain exploded through the side of her abdomen as the blade found its mark, slicing deep into her flesh. A choked gasp escaped her lips as she stumbled backward, dead leaves crunching beneath her unsteady feet. Warm blood seeped through her fingers as she pressed her hand against the wound, fighting to stay upright despite the waves of dizziness threatening to overwhelm her.
"You've got some fight in you," he muttered, barely audible above his ragged breathing. He'd underestimated her. This was a mistake with potentially fatal consequences.
It was now or never. She swiftly gathered chakra to her feet, twisted her body, and kicked the man in the stomach. Her injured side felt like it was tearing. As he grunted, her hand touched a tenketsu point in his chest. A strangled cough erupted from him, splattering blood. His grip faltered, the kunai falling from his hand.
She seized the moment, fleeing, leaving him gasping under the tree. The tenketsu strike had thrown his breathing into chaos, weakening him. When he partially recovered, she was gone.
Chest afire, he left the river to seek a remedy for his violent coughing and to report to Danzou-sama about the girl's knowledge.
Day's end glow filtered through the window of Kakashi's sparse apartment as he lay sprawled on his bed, the worn pages of "Illuminating Shadows" spread across his chest. Only the soft whisper of turning pages disturbed the stillness.
His visible eye narrowed as he contemplated the text. The words seemed to echo his encounter in the forest—had that been his own Shadow, manifesting his deepest fears? The concept was disturbing, yet oddly freeing.
Closing the book, he let his head fall back, gaze fixed on the ceiling's shadowed patterns. Recent events tumbled through his mind: the mysterious masked Uchiha with abilities he'd never encountered before, the shocking news of Itachi's death, and Hinata's uncharacteristic behavior.
Something felt wrong, like the calm before a storm.
The forest floor rushed to meet Hinata in a dizzying swirl of earth and leaves. Hinata collapsed among gnarled roots, each breath sending fresh waves of agony through her wounded side. Blood wet her palm, metallic and warm.
"I can't... I won't..." The words escaped, nearly lost beneath her thundering heartbeat. Her trembling fingers pressed against the wound.
"Hinata-san."
The soft yet commanding voice cut through her pain-hazed consciousness. She flinched, scanning the empty clearing with desperate eyes.
"Who's... who's there?" Fear constricted her throat.
"Go to Kakashi." Urgency threaded through the gentle tone. "He will know what to do."
A movement drew her gaze upward. A crow perched on a branch, its obsidian eyes reflecting an unsettling intelligence as it cocked its head.
"Karasu-san, was that... you?" Or maybe she was hallucinating. A talking crow?
The crow spread its wings in response, taking flight, as if baiting her to follow. It circled once before soaring toward the village, a dark sentry against the twilight sky.
Drawing strength, Hinata decided to take the bait. She forced herself upright. Dizziness threatened to overwhelm her, but the crow's command anchored her consciousness.
"Kakashi-sensei..." The name became her mantra as she stumbled forward.
Adrenaline carried her through the forest, each footfall sending shockwaves of pain through her body. The crow remained overhead as if leading her to safety.
The trees thinned, revealing glittering lights on the street. Her feathered guide circled once more before alighting atop a familiar building: Kakashi' sensei's apartment.
With the last remnants of her strength, Hinata staggered toward his door.
The urgent knocking shattered the evening silence, startling Kakashi from his thoughts. "Illuminating Shadows" slipped from his grasp as he rose, every ninja instinct suddenly alert.
Opening the door, his heart slammed against his ribs. Hinata stood trembling in the dim hallway light, one hand pressed against her stomach where blood soaked through her lavender jacket in a horrifying spread of crimson.
"Hinata?" His voice remained carefully controlled despite his rising alarm. "What happened?"
She stumbled inside as he stepped aside, her body swaying dangerously. He caught her slight form before her legs could buckle, carrying her to the couch. Words spilled from her lips between labored breaths: "A man... mask... rat... he knew... Itachi-san... massacre..."
His stomach clenched. "Breathe, Hinata," he instructed, kneeling beside her. Gently lifting the blood-soaked fabric, he assessed the wound—a vicious slice that had miraculously missed vital organs.
His hands moved automatically, channeling chakra into the Mystical Palm technique. Though not his specialty, years of ANBU training proved invaluable as healing energy flowed into the wound. Gradually, the bleeding slowed, and color returned to her ashen face.
"Stay with me. You're going to be all right," he murmured, more to steady himself than her.
Her trembling hand gripped his with surprising strength. "He... he saw... my memories."
"I'll get Sakura," he said, finishing his primary treatment.
"No!" Her voice regained intensity. "No one else can know. Not about Itachi-san... or they'll be in danger too." Her eyes met his, pleading. "I didn't know who else to trust..."
"Danzou..." Kakashi's gaze hardened.
She nodded once, sharply. "Yes. A Root operative. He found out I know about the Uchiha massacre. I heard Danzou ordered him to look into my memory for trespassing into the Uchiha compound..."
"Rest now," he ordered softly, draping a blanket over her. "I'll handle this."
Hinata's eyes fluttered closed as exhaustion claimed her, finding more safety in his presence than elsewhere in Konoha.
Kakashi watched her drift into unconsciousness, mind racing. Root, the Uchiha's truth, Hinata's forbidden knowledge—a volatile combination orchestrated by Danzou's shadows. Leaving her alone, even briefly, felt dangerous. Danzou's influence reached far, his methods ruthless.
He could defend himself if targeted. But Hinata? A new fear took root in his chest as she slept, vulnerable yet trusting in his protection.
A solitary candle cast writhing shadows across the underground chamber. Danzou sat hunched in his chair, the weak light reflecting off his single visible eye.
The silence broke as Todou entered, his porcelain rat mask gleaming wetly in the darkness as he stepped forward. His usually composed stance was marred by tension, one hand pressed against his chest to suppress an obvious pain.
"Danzou-sama," he began, voice strained. "I have... news regarding the Hyuuga girl."
Danzou's eye narrowed. "Speak."
A spasm of coughs wracked Todou's frame. "I intercepted her by the riverbank. Attempted memory extraction, but..." The encounter flashed vividly in his mind—her blood-stained lavender jacket, defiant pale eyes blazing as she unleashed the Kaiten, the sickening impact as his body met the tree, the burning agony when her palm struck his tenketsu point.
"She... resisted," he admitted. "Her Byakugan exceeded our intelligence. She penetrated my memories, and then..." Shame colored his hesitation.
"Continue." Danzou's voice carried a dangerous edge.
"She injured me." The confession felt like broken glass in his throat. "Her gentle fist disrupted my chakra network and compromised my respiratory system. I barely withdrew."
Danzou jerked back, momentarily stunned. A mere Chuunin had bested one of his elite operatives—an unsettling crack in his carefully maintained control.
"There's more," Todou pressed on, steadying his voice. "Before her counterattack, I accessed some memories. She knows the truth about the Uchiha massacre. All of it."
Danzou recoiled as if struck. The massacre—his most closely guarded secret—was now known to an outsider. The implications chilled him to his core.
"Uchiha Itachi himself entrusted her with the truth."
"..."
Danzou's nails bit into his palm. Even in death, Itachi continued to undermine him. Now this Hyuuga heiress threatened everything he'd built.
"I wounded her with a kunai, the kind that causes severe bleeding. She'll need medical attention, so I've alerted our contact at the hospital to watch for her. Nothing yet, though," Todou added.
"This information cannot spread," he rasped, cold resolve hardening his voice. "Her knowledge endangers everything we've worked for."
His piercing gaze fixed on Todou. "You failed to contain this threat."
"I accept full responsibility, Danzou-sama." Todou's mask concealed his conflicted expression. "How shall I atone?"
"Your skills are still valuable, or else..." Danzou's voice turned emotionless. "Return to your quarters and maintain vigilance. I've sent some of you to the Hyuuga compound. Though this might require a personal touch… I will contact Torune and Fu."
Shadows lengthened across Konoha as Kakashi melted into the foliage overlooking the Hyuuga compound. The knot in his stomach tightened as he recalled Hinata's blood-soaked jacket, her trembling voice revealing dangerous truths.
A whisper of movement drew his attention. Two figures materialized from the lengthening shadows, their Root masks gleaming dully in the fading light. They moved with predatory grace, exchanging hushed words that didn't carry to his position. Kakashi remained motionless, his presence masked by years of ANBU training.
The operatives slipped into the compound like poison seeping into a wound. Their presence confirmed his worst fears—Root had already infiltrated the Hyuuga's inner sanctum.
She can't come back here, he realized, watching the last traces of sunlight abandon the compound to the gathering darkness. Not while Danzou's pawns circled like vultures, waiting to silence her.
Turning away, the weight of his decision pressed down on him like a physical burden. Back in his apartment, he mechanically prepared ramen, the aromatic steam doing little to dispel his dark thoughts.
As he stirred the broth, his mind churned with impossible choices and the growing certainty that protecting Hinata meant challenging forces that could destroy them both.
Night had settled over Konoha like a heavy blanket, muffling the city's distant murmur behind thick apartment walls. Hinata stirred on the unfamiliar couch, the dull throb in her side a lingering echo of the Root operative's kunai.
Her eyes fluttered open to find Kakashi's silhouette hunched over his kitchen counter, his form backlit by the warm glow of a single lamp.
"Kakashi-sensei," she called softly, her voice rough from nap.
He turned, his visible eye crinkling with quiet concern. "Welcome back to the land of the living. Just preparing some miso ramen. The good kind, not the instant stuff Naruto lives on."
Testing her limits, Hinata eased herself upright, suppressing a wince. The sharp, stabbing pain had subsided to a manageable ache—courtesy of his skilled healing jutsu. "Thank you," she murmured, the words heavy with deeper meaning than mere politeness.
"Don't mention it." His tone was gentle but carried an edge of steel. "The bathroom's down the hall if you'd like to freshen up. Food will be ready soon."
The warm water helped clear her mind, washing away dried blood and the lingering fear that clung like cobwebs. When she emerged in clean clothes borrowed from his emergency supplies—slightly too large but serviceable—two steaming bowls waited on the table, their aroma filling the small space with the promise of comfort.
As she arranged the bowls and chopsticks, a soft sound from the hallway made her glance up. Kakashi emerged from the bathroom, towel slung low on his hips, water droplets tracing the lines of his bare chest. His face, usually obscured by the mask, was fully visible, the sharp line of his jaw and the unexpected beauty mark near his lips catching the light.
Hinata froze, a startled gasp escaping her lips. Her eyes flew open, taking in the sight of her sensei, the legendary Copy Ninja, stripped of his usual defenses. Without the mask, he seemed more vulnerable, the scattered scars across his chest a memento to battles fought and won.
He looked up, meeting her stunned gaze. A faint blush crept up his cheeks as he realized his oversight. "Ah," he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Forgot this." He gestured towards the mask lying on the bathroom counter.
Hinata quickly averted her eyes, her own cheeks burning. "I-I'll just... um..." she stammered, flustered.
Kakashi's visible eye crinkled with amusement, the lines around it deepening. "Don't worry," he reassured her with a gentle smile that softened his features. "It happens to the best of us. Guess there's no use hiding from you anymore." A playful glint entered his eye. "Though I might need to start charging you for the exclusive view."
He disappeared into his bedroom, leaving Hinata to grapple with the image of her sensei, bare-chested and undeniably handsome, seared into her memory.
They ate in companionable silence, broken only by the gentle click of chopsticks and the soft whisper of noodles being drawn from the broth. Steam rose between them like unspoken words, the simple meal an anchor in the chaos of the day. Through the window, clouds drifted across a crescent moon, its shadows shifted on the village below.
"This is wonderful, sensei," Hinata said softly, offering a genuine smile that reached her pale eyes. Then she looked at him, a little longer than she should, before she quickly looked at her meal again.
Kakashi's smiled, pleased to see some of her usual warmth returning. But concern quickly shadowed his expression, deepening the lines around his visible eye. "Your family doesn't know you're back from your mission, do they?"
Hinata set down her chopsticks with deliberate care, shoulders tensing beneath the borrowed shirt. "No. For now, they won't be looking, but..."
"They will soon," Kakashi finished, his voice grim. "I checked the compound earlier. Root operatives are already there, waiting. Like shadows with teeth."
Her eyes faltered, and she took another careful sip of broth to steady herself. The warmth spread through her chest, a poor substitute for courage. "What should we do, sensei?"
Kakashi leaned back, his chair creaking softly as his mind raced through scenarios. "You'll have to stay here for now. It's not ideal, but it's the safest option. I've got enough traps and seals to give even ANBU pause." His eye darkened. "The Hyuuga will notice your absence soon, and questions will be asked."
He paused, absently tracing a scratch on the table's surface. "I can report that I've assigned you to an urgent classified mission under my direct command. It won't hold forever, but it'll buy us time to maneuver."
"But it will tie my disappearance to you," Hinata's voice carried a note of distress, her fingers twisting in the borrowed fabric of her shirt. "It's better to avoid something that will cause suspicion..."
"Okay, but let me worry about Danzou," Kakashi cut in firmly, the name hanging like poison in the air. "Right now, our priority is keeping you safe while we figure out our next move." He lowered his voice, though they were alone, the habit of secrecy ingrained deep.
Hinata's hands tightened around her bowl, the ceramic warm against her palms. "I understand. But my father... he'll demand answers eventually." The thought of Hiashi's stern face made her stomach clench.
"And we'll deal with that when it comes." Kakashi stood in one fluid motion, moving to the window with the silent grace of a veteran shinobi. His reflection ghosted across the glass as he checked the street below. "For now, we maintain the appearance of normalcy. I'll continue my regular duties; you'll stay here. I've already set up additional security seals around the apartment."
He turned back to her, his visible eye serious. "Hinata, listen carefully. If anything happens while I'm gone, there's an emergency exit through the false panel in the bedroom closet. It leads to a series of old ANBU tunnels." His voice dropped. "Take the stairs down, turn on the lights. Head east for exactly 437 steps, then up. You'll emerge near the abandoned training grounds. There's a safehouse there—"
A sudden thud outside made them both freeze, chakra coiling instinctively. After a tense moment, the distinctive sound of a neighbor's cat landing on the balcony railing broke the silence, but the interruption underscored the gravity of their situation.
"Such a tight knot we're entangled in," Kakashi murmured, returning to the table. The weariness in his voice was carefully masked, but Hinata caught it anyway. "But we'll get through this. Together."
Hinata nodded, grateful for his steadfast support yet acutely aware of the growing weight of their shared burden. The half-eaten ramen had gone cold, forgotten in the gravity of their discussion.
"Kakashi-sensei," she began, her voice meek, "there are things I need to tell you about the masked man we encountered in the forest. But..." she glanced at the dark circles under his visible eye, "we're both exhausted. It can wait until tomorrow."
Kakashi eye went wide with alarm, a subtle tell that spoke volumes. "How do you know about him?"
"Itachi-san's memories," she replied, voice soft against the rising chorus of night crickets outside.
"I see." The simple words carried the weight of understanding, of pieces falling into terrible place. He glanced at the window again, where the moon had vanished behind clouds, leaving only darkness. "Get some rest, Hinata. Tomorrow will come soon enough."
In the distance, a night bird called, its cry echoing like a warning through the sleeping village.
The single torch cast its sickly light across the stone walls of Danzou's chamber. Torune and Fuu materialized from the shadows, and the musty underground air hummed with urgency.
"Torune. Fu." Danzou's voice carried authority. "Todou found that Hyuuga girl possesses knowledge that threatens everything we've built. But he failed to contain her. She's escaped and is now hiding.'
Fuu shifted slightly. "The Hyuuga heiress? What could threaten everything we've built?"
"She knows the truth about the Uchiha massacre." Danzou's fingers tightened on his cane. "Somehow, Itachi revealed everything to her before his death. She knows of my involvement, of the coup... of it all."
Torune's insects buzzed softly beneath his skin—a rare display of agitation. "She's on the same team as my brother Shino. I've observed her during clan gatherings. Quiet, reserved..."
"And yet she critically injured one of our best operatives," Danzou countered. "Todou attempted memory extraction, but she fought back with unexpected skill. The Byakugan makes her particularly dangerous—she can see through deception and penetrate memories. She must be silenced before this knowledge spreads."
He turned his gaze to Fuu and Torune, his expression grave. "This girl, Hyuuga Hinata, possesses the Byakugan, a doujutsu that grants near-360 vision, x-ray sight, and the ability to see chakra pathways. It also allows her to perceive even the subtlest genjutsu, making her resistant to conventional interrogation methods."
Fuu's lips curled into a predatory smile. "A challenge, then?"
"Indeed," Danzou confirmed. "She's also a skilled taijutsu fighter, specializing in the Jyuuken style. Her strikes disrupt chakra flow, potentially disabling an opponent with a single blow, as Todou unfortunately discovered."
Torune simply nodded. "Understood, Danzou-sama. We will exercise extreme caution."
"Find her," Danzou commanded. "Scour the village if you have to. Hospitals, clinics—leave no stone unturned. Bring her to me alive, but incapacitated. And..." His voice dropped to a chilling whisper. "...no mistakes this time."
"And if she resists?" Torune questioned.
"Do what is necessary. The truth about the massacre cannot come to light. The village's stability depends on it." Danzou's expression hardened. "But remember—she's still the Hyuuga heiress. Her death would raise too many questions. Be discreet."
Both operatives bowed deeply. "Understood, Danzou-sama."
As they turned to leave, Danzou added, "Torune. Your connection to her through your brother changes nothing. Is that clear?"
"Crystal clear, Danzou-sama." Torune's voice betrayed no emotion. "In Root, we have no past, no connections. Only the mission."
The torch sputtered as they vanished into the shadows, leaving Danzou alone with his dark thoughts and the weight of secrets that threatened to unravel everything.
Hinata lay in Kakashi's bed, the unfamiliar scent of his sheets surrounding her as she stared at the ceiling. Despite her exhaustion and healing wounds, sleep eluded her. Her mind drifted back to when Kakashi emerged from the bathroom, unmasked and shirtless.
She'd glimpsed him shirtless by the river in the moonlight before, but this had been different. The apartment's lighting had revealed what shadows had concealed—the sharp line of his jaw, the small beauty mark near his lips, the way his features balanced perfectly between strength and elegance. Without the mask, he looked younger somehow, more human than the legendary Copy Ninja.
He's handsome, she thought, then immediately felt her cheeks warm at the observation. He almost felt like somebody else if it wasn't for his white hair, height, and voice. And it felt almost forbidden, seeing what so few had seen. The ANBU tattoo on the arm under his shoulder, the scattered scars that mapped his battles, the way his white hair fell differently when damp—details that made him real in a way she'd never considered before.
But it wasn't just his physical appearance that occupied her thoughts. It was the trust implicit in his casual revelation, the way he'd made light of it to ease her embarrassment. Even now, he was out there keeping watch, protecting her when she was most vulnerable.
Hinata rolled onto her side, wincing slightly at the pull of her healing wound. She could sense Kakashi's steady chakra signature through the wall, a reassuring presence in the darkness. Whatever came next, at least she wasn't alone anymore.
With that comforting thought, she finally drifted into an uneasy sleep, her dreams filled with white hair, gentle eyes, shadowy masks, and protective wings.
Across the small apartment, Kakashi lay awake, his thoughts mirroring Hinata's anxieties. He, too, felt the weight of their shared secret and the looming threat of Danzou. Sleep was a distant prospect, chased away by the memory of the masked Uchiha's crimson Sharingan.
Kakashi couldn't shake the image of Hinata's blood-soaked jacket. It wasn't just the attack itself that disturbed him; it was the knowledge that she'd been targeted for knowing the truth, a truth that had already claimed too many lives.
The couch protested with a low groan as Kakashi shifted for the hundredth time, his body weary but his mind refusing to quiet. Hinata's chakra signature pulsed gently and steadily through the thin apartment walls—she had finally surrendered to sleep in his bed. His thoughts drifted back to earlier, when he'd emerged from the steamy bathroom without his mask and the way her pearl-like eyes had widened before quickly averting.
A wry smile tugged at his exposed lips. So, few had seen what lay beneath the fabric over the years: Tenzou during desperate field medic sessions in ANBU, Teuchi and Ayame during hurried ramen runs, and Itachi... The familiar ache bloomed in his chest at the thought of his former colleague's knowing smirk. Now Hinata had joined that intimate circle of trust, though circumstances had forced their hand.
His jaw tightened as Danzou's shadow crept into his thoughts. The man had always lurked in Konoha's darkest corners, wrapping himself in false patriotism while he strangled the village from within. But targeting the Hyuga heiress? She was barely more than a child who'd stumbled upon a truth that should have seen daylight long ago.
Itachi was gone, his sacrifice buried under years of carefully constructed lies. The truth had demanded his life as payment, and now it hungered for Hinata's as well.
And then there was the masked man—the impossible Uchiha who shouldn't exist. Every time Kakashi closed his eyes, he saw that blood-red Sharingan boring into him, so hauntingly familiar yet wrong.
Despite the apparent calm, a knot of anxiety tightened in Kakashi's chest. The apartment walls felt thin, flimsy barriers against the darkness that lurked outside. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched, that danger still lurked just beyond the reach of his senses.
The memory sent an involuntary shiver down his spine as exhaustion finally began to claim him, pulling him down into uneasy dreams filled with spinning tomoe and swaying irises in the dark.
Sunlight filtered through the window as Kakashi stirred, his muscles protesting from the night spent on the couch. The familiar scent of rice porridge drew him to consciousness, accompanied by the quiet sounds of movement from his kitchen.
He found Hinata by the stove, dressed in his oversized spare clothes. Despite her injuries, her movements were precise, and a shinobi's efficiency was evident in how she navigated the space.
"Sensei," she acknowledged without turning, her Byakugan likely having noted his presence. He's already up, without his mask and wearing his moss green flak jacket. Hinata felt her cheeks warm as she busied herself with the porridge, hoping he wouldn't notice her flustered state. "I hope you don't mind. I thought we could both use a proper meal."
"You didn't have to push yourself," Kakashi said, noting how she favored her right side. "Though I suppose proper nutrition is part of recovery."
"Basic survival skills," Hinata replied softly, her hands steady as she portioned the food. "Every ninja should know how to prepare a decent meal, even in unfamiliar territory." She paused, then added with quiet respect, "Thank you for sharing your space, sensei. It's the least I could do in return."
Kakashi leaned against the doorframe, studying her. The timid girl he remembered had grown into a capable kunoichi who understood the weight of obligation and gratitude. "The tea is in the top cabinet," he offered. "Though I'm afraid it's nothing special."
A smile crossed her face. "Military rations grade?"
"Something like that."
They settled comfortably as she served the simple but nourishing meal.
Steam rose from their bowls as they ate. She set down her chopsticks, her hands trembling slightly.
"Conveniently, your apartment is so close to the gate, sensei. It makes getting in and out of the village easier for missions."
"One of the reasons I chose this one specifically."
"Sensei," she began, "there's something you need to know about the masked man from yesterday."
Kakashi's hand stilled, his bowl of porridge forgotten. The sudden tension in his shoulders betrayed his recognition of the subject.
"In Itachi-san's memories..." Hinata paused, gathering her thoughts. "The man who intercepted us in the forest—he's the same person who assisted in the Uchiha massacre."
The revelation hung heavy in the air. Kakashi's visible eye narrowed; his expression hardening.
"There's more," Hinata continued, her fingers gripping the table's edge. "Itachi-san's memories showed them talking before the Uchiha massacre. He admitted he was the one who released the Nine-Tails into Konoha sixteen years ago."
Kakashi's chakra flickered dangerously, though his voice remained steady. "Did Itachi know his identity?"
Hinata nodded, her pale eyes meeting his. "He claimed to be Uchiha Madara."
The name hit. Kakashi's hand clenched, "Madara? The co-founder of Konoha?"
"Yes. The same man who fought alongside the Shodaime." Hinata's voice grew stronger as she continued. "The memories were clear, sensei. He possessed abilities beyond normal Sharingan users. The way he phased through attacks, his control over the Nine-Tails..."
"This changes everything," Kakashi muttered, more to himself than to Hinata. His mind was already racing through the implications - the Uchiha massacre, the Nine-Tails attack, and now this latest encounter. Events spanning decades were suddenly connected by a single, impossible figure.
"Itachi-san seemed to be wary of him," Hinata added quietly. "Not just of his power, but of what he was planning. Whatever it is, I don't think the attack on Konoha was random."
Kakashi pushed his bowl aside, his appetite gone. "No," he agreed grimly. "If Madara truly is alive and active, we're dealing with something far more dangerous than we imagined." He fixed Hinata with an intense stare. "Tell me everything you saw in those memories. Every detail matters now."
The morning sun continued to rise outside, but inside Kakashi's apartment, the shadows seemed to deepen as Hinata began to recount what she had witnessed in Itachi's memories. A sharp knock echoed through the apartment, cutting through the tense silence. Kakashi's hand instinctively moved towards his kunai pouch, his visible eye narrowing as he met Hinata's gaze. Twice, gap, and twice. He recognized the pattern instantly.
"Hinata," Kakashi said, his voice low, "stay put for a moment. This might be important." He swiftly raised his hand, the familiar fabric sliding over his face, concealing his features. Only his visible eye remained, focused on the door.
From the dining table, Hinata watched him speak with someone before he nodded and closed the door.
"Seems like the Hokage needs me," Kakashi said, a hint of urgency in his voice. "It might have something to do with Naruto. I will check on him first, then we'll head to the Hokage Tower together." He paused, his eye softening slightly. "Stay here, and don't worry. I'll be back as soon as I can."
Naruto lay sprawled on his worn futon, idly flipping through a tattered manga volume as the morning sunlight filtered through his dusty window. The small apartment was quiet except for the occasional rustle of pages and distant sounds of village life drifting up from the streets below.
tap tap tap
The sudden sound jolted him. Turning his head, he spotted a familiar shock of white hair and a masked face peering through his bedroom window. "Hi, Kakashi-sensei." Naruto scrambled up, his manga forgotten. He pushed the window open, letting in a burst of fresh air. "What are you doing here?"
"Yo," Kakashi raised a hand in his usual lazy greeting. "The Godaime wants to see you at the tower. We should get moving."
Mist lingered in the ancient tree branches of Takigakure, wreathing the stilt house in ghostly tendrils. The structure seemed to float, suspended between massive wooden limbs, while spiral staircases wound around it like serpents, vining strange shadows that kept the dwelling in perpetual twilight.
Kisame leaned against the weathered railing, his massive frame tense with irritation. The sound of light footsteps made him turn—that orange mask was unmistakable even in the dim light.
"I need to talk to you, Kisame-sama," Tobi chirped, his sing-song voice jarring against the somber atmosphere.
Kisame's gill-like markings tightened as he frowned. "First, Zetsu, and now you come bothering me? I thought you died in Deidara's blast, Tobi."
"You are the last one who knows I'm still alive." The childish tone dropped, replaced by something deeper, more ancient. "Sorry about it. Not my intention to deceive you since you were the closest to me in Kiri."
Those words froze Kisame in place. His gaze snapped up as Tobi's gloved hands reached for his mask. The spiral pattern seemed to ripple as it was pulled away, revealing a face that belonged to a legend.
"I see," Kisame breathed, unconsciously straightening his posture. Recognition and respect carved into his expression. "I had no idea you were Tobi, Milord. Now that I know it's you..." He paused, choosing his next words carefully. "It should make things easier, Lord Mizukage Emeritus... I mean, Madara-sama."
The ancient Uchiha's visible eye gleamed in the shadows. "I shall continue to count on you, Kisame."
The panels of the staircase of the stilt house creaked softly as they began walking together.
The porridge grew cold, abandoned on the table as Hinata sat frozen in her chair. Kakashi's absence filled the apartment with a sense of security and vulnerability, a disquieting paradox that tightened her chest. Sunlight poured through the window, illuminating her tightly clasped hands.
With a deep, steadying breath, she activated her Byakugan. Chakra flooded her optical nerves, the veins around her eyes pulsing as her vision sharpened and extended. Walls became translucent, and distance dissolved. Her awareness rippled outward, straining at the edges of her perception as she pushed the limits of her Byakugan.
The Hyuuga compound sharpened into view, a miniature world laid bare before her enhanced sight. Every meticulously manicured detail—courtyards, corridors, gardens—was rendered in stark clarity. But it wasn't the compound's flawless facade that stole her breath.
Two figures, cloaked in shadow yet radiating chakra-like beacons, moved with the practiced stealth of seasoned operatives. The first signature was unmistakable: a swarm of microscopic insects coursing through chakra pathways. Torune-aniki. Shino-kun's brother—who was now a weapon in Danzo's arsenal.
The second figure, with dark brown hair cascading over his shoulders, was vaguely familiar—Ino's cousin, she recalled, though his name eluded her. They maintained a deceptive air of casualness, perched on a branch, backs against a weathered wall, blending seamlessly into the scenery.
"They're waiting," she breathed, the words a hushed exhalation in the stillness of the apartment.
With a slow exhale, she released the Byakugan. The pulsing veins subsided, her vision contracting back to its normal range, leaving her alone with the weight of her discovery.
Her fingers brushed against the tender ache where the kunai had pierced her flesh. Pushing herself to her feet, she cleared the table, the chair protesting with a faint creak. She methodically washed the dishes, then retreated to Kakashi's bedroom, stopping right in front of his closet.
A heavy silence filled the Hokage's office as Kakashi and Naruto entered. Tsunade sat behind her desk, shadows crossing her face despite the morning sunlight streaming through the windows. Shizune stood beside her, clutching Tonton closer than usual, while Sakura and Sai lingered near the wall, their expressions guarded.
What caught Naruto's attention were the four toads settled on the wooden floor, particularly the largest one bearing a peculiar seat. Upon it sat an ancient-looking toad, his skin weathered like old parchment, wise eyes fixed intently on Naruto.
The weight of their collective gaze made Naruto shift uncomfortably. "What's going on? Why's everyone looking at me like that?"
"So, this is Naruto, Jiraiya-boy's disciple?" The elderly toad's voice creaked like old timber.
Tsunade's fingers interlocked tighter on her desk. "Yes, Fukasaku-sama. This is Naruto... the child of prophecy."
"Huh? A geezer toad knows about me?" Naruto blurted out.
"Naruto!" Tsunade's sharp tone cut through the air. "Show some respect. This is Fukasaku-sama, one of the two honorable sages of Mount Myoboku. He's traveled far to speak with you specifically."
The ancient toad gave a small, sad smile. "I am the Great Toad Sage, though such titles matter little now. Tell me, boy - you were indeed Jiraiya-boy's student?"
"Jiraiya-boy? Boy?" Naruto's face scrunched in confusion. "Don't call Ero-sennin a kid! Who are you to—"
"Ero-sennin?" Fukasaku's laugh was hollow, barely masking something darker. "How like him to earn such a name."
"Just tell me why you're here, old toad. What's with all the mystery?"
Fukasaku's ancient eyes met Naruto's, carrying the weight of centuries. His next words fell like stones into still water: "Jiraiya-boy... has fallen in battle."
The color drained from Naruto's face as the words sank in, his body going rigid. The morning sunlight suddenly felt cold.
"Say what?!"
The air in the Akatsuki hideout was thick with tension as Sasuke claimed the head seat, his presence commanding despite his youth. Madara lounged on the table's edge, mask gleaming in the cave's dim light.
"So," Madara drawled, "you want Konoha destroyed. But I'm curious—what's your actual plan here?"
Sasuke's eyes remained cold. "Simple. The elders die. Everyone else?" He gave a dismissive shrug. "They can live or die. I couldn't care less."
Kisame barked out a laugh. "Kid, you're in over your head. Those elders? They're not exactly sitting ducks. The whole village's security system exists to protect them." He flashed his shark-like grin at Team Taka. "And no offense, but your little squad isn't exactly elite forces material."
"Watch your mouth," Suigetsu bristled. "You think you're so special? We've got unfinished business, you and me. Why don't we settle it right now?"
"Suigetsu, don't—" Juugo started, but Suigetsu was already moving.
The clash of metal on hard flesh echoed as Madara materialized, blocking Suigetsu's blade from slashing an unfazed Kisame with his arm.
Madara sighed. "Sasuke, your team's like a bunch of untrained puppies."
"For god's sake, Suigetsu!" Karin exploded. "Can you stop being an idiot for five—"
"Oh, shut it!" Suigetsu cut her off, eyes locked on Kisame's sword. "You want to know the truth? I've only been hanging around Sasuke to get closer to Samehada. That's all this has ever been about."
"Sasuke?" Juugo's quiet voice cut through the chaos. "Your call."
Sasuke leaned back, looking almost bored. "Do whatever you want, Suigetsu. Just remember—you're not strong enough to beat him. Not yet."
"'Not yet,' eh?" Kisame's grin widened. "At least someone here's realistic."
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Suigetsu grumbled, lowering his sword. "Just wait till I serve you up as sushi."
"Speaking of alliances," Madara cut in smoothly, "we're running short on members ourselves. Since we're all after the same thing, why not work together?"
Sasuke's eyes narrowed. "And what do we get out of this arrangement?"
"The Bijuu. We'll share them."
"The what now?" Suigetsu asked.
"The Bijuu," Madara leaned forward, voice dropping conspiratorially. "See, back in the day, Hashirama—the First Hokage—he had this collection of them. Used them like bargaining chips, keeping the peace between villages by spreading them around..."
"Hold up," Karin adjusted her glasses, "you mean those massive chakra beasts? Like the Nine-Tails?"
"Chakra monsters with unlimited power," Sasuke mused. "Now that's interesting."
"We've already bagged seven," Madara said. "Just need the Eight and Nine-Tails. Naruto's got the Nine-Tails covered—that one's ours. The Eight-Tails? That's all yours."
A faint smile crossed Sasuke's face. "How generous."
"Just remember," Madara's voice turned to steel, "double-cross us, and you're dead. All of you."
"Heh." Sasuke's smirk spoke volumes. The game was on, and he was ready to play.
Hinata slid the doors open, revealing a spacious built-in room. Clothes were meticulously folded on the racks, each item seemingly in its designated place. A single, bare bulb cast a dim light, illuminating the rows of dark jackets and practical shirts. Even the faint scent of sandalwood incense clinging to the clothes whispered of Kakashi-sensei. A strange apprehension and excitement fluttered in her chest. It felt oddly intimate, like stepping into a hidden part of his life.
Her Byakugan flared, seeking the hidden mechanism. With a gentle push, the back panel swung inward, revealing a dark opening and a rush of damp, earthy air. Hinata slipped through, the musty scent clinging to her clothes. Stone steps descended into darkness, the air growing heavy and still. Her hand brushed against the rough wall, searching for the switch Kakashi had mentioned. A click and a pale light flickered to life, chasing away the shadows but leaving an eerie gloom.
Each step echoed in the silence as she counted, her heart pounding in her chest. 437... Finally, another set of stairs appeared, leading upward towards something resembling a trap door. She carefully climbed the stairs and pushed the trap door, revealing a room. Sunlight streamed through, hitting the wooden floor. She ascended onto it and looked around.
In the otherwise empty room, a lone wooden chair sat near a weathered door, its presence oddly unsettling. A mounted closet held a few neatly folded futons; their edges tinged with dust. Hinata approached the door, her hand trembling slightly as she turned the knob.
A wave of fresh air and a chorus of birdsong washed over her. Stepping outside, she found herself in a small clearing bathed in warm sunlight. Towering pines and dense bushes formed a natural wall around a patch of surprisingly well-maintained lawn. A crow perched on a nearby branch, its eyes fixed on her.
"Good morning, Hinata-san," Karasu greeted, his squeaky voice surprisingly clear and resonant. "I thought you'd emerge here somehow. The trap door inside is connected directly to Kakashi's apartment."
Hinata stared at the crow, her breath catching in her throat. She had never encountered a talking crow before, and the experience was both unsettling and strangely exhilarating. "Good morning, Karasu-san," she managed, her voice soft. "But... how are you able to talk to me? How am I able to understand you?"
Karasu ruffled his feathers, his gaze unwavering. "Only you can understand what I say, Hinata-san. To you, I speak in human language. To others, I am merely a crow." He tilted his head, a curious glint in his eyes. "It is a gift of sorts."
"A gift? But why now?" Hinata asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.
"I apologize for not explaining sooner," Karasu replied, his voice tinged with regret. "Itachi-sama is gone, but he entrusted us to you before he left. It's through a written agreement made when he was a wee child. We've only ever served him, as he was a special human," Karasu answered.
Hinata's brows were raised, "But Karasu-san, how did you know the trap door leads to Kakashi-sensei's apartment?"
Karasu puffed up his chest, a hint of pride in his voice. "We were Itachi-sama's eyes and ears during his ANBU missions. The tunnels hold no secrets from us. We even know a hidden path that leads near the Hyuuga compound." He tilted his head, a glint in his eyes. "Perhaps... a path even the Hyuuga themselves don't fully know."
Hope flickered in Hinata's eyes. A secret entrance to the Hyuuga Compound—a way to slip past Danzou's watchful gaze.
"There's more," Karasu continued, tilting his head. "Danzou and his Root operatives are searching for you. We'll keep watch and inform you of their movements. If necessary... you might have to flee." He puffed up his chest, a glint of determination in his eyes. "Itachi-sama entrusted us with your safety. We won't let you down."
Hinata nodded, a warmth spreading through her despite the crow's ominous words. "Thank you, Karasu-san."
Karasu shifted on the branch, a thoughtful glint in his eyes. "There's... one more thing. Kakashi.. he doesn't know about the agreement. He doesn't seem to like crows much. He's the scarecrow, but he's scared of us more than we are of him. Perhaps it would be best if you explained our situation to him. We wouldn't want to give him a heart attack when he sees us by the kitchen window in the morning…"
The mist hung heavy over the lake, curling around the stone bridge near the Akatsuki headquarters. Two figures stood in silhouette against the gray backdrop—one tall and masked, the other seeming to emerge from the very shadows themselves.
"Well?" Zetsu's dual-toned voice broke the silence, his black-and-white form shifting slightly.
Obito leaned against the bridge's railing, his orange mask catching what little light filtered through the mist. "It's done. Itachi's dead." There was a note of satisfaction in his voice. "That particular thorn in our side is finally gone. And with him, our agreement to stay away from Konoha dies too."
"Such a long wait," Zetsu mused, his golden eyes gleaming.
"But worth every moment." Obito straightened, his Sharingan eye visible through the mask's single hole. "Everything is falling into place. Though..." He paused, a hint of amusement in his tone. "Itachi left us a little parting gift in Sasuke. The Amaterasu."
Zetsu's dark half seemed to stir with interest. "You don't think he knew? About our true intentions?"
"Itachi was clever, but not that clever." Obito's voice hardened slightly. "He probably just wanted to keep me away from his precious little brother. As if that would stop me."
"We've lost many to get here," Zetsu observed. "So many members..."
Obito waved a hand dismissively. "Minor setbacks. Each of them served their purpose—Deidara, Sasori, Hidan, Kakuzu. Their sacrifices weren't in vain. Thanks to them, we're exactly where we need to be."
He turned to face the direction of the hideout, his voice taking on a darker tone of triumph.
"And most importantly... Sasuke is mine now. The last Uchiha, right where I want him."
The late afternoon sunlight slanted through the windows like spectral blades into Kakashi's apartment. Hinata moved quietly through the small kitchen, her movements efficient and practiced. The comforting aroma of simmering dashi and seared fish filled the air.
Karasu's words echoed in her mind: "Itachi-sama entrusted us with your safety."
After returning from the safe house, she felt a renewed sense of responsibility. Tonight's meal would be more than sustenance—it was her quiet rebellion against the darkness threatening to engulf them.
Steam rose gently from the dishes she'd arranged on the table. The centerpiece was a bowl of Oyakodon, the tender chicken and onions nestled in perfectly cooked rice, their sweet-savory aroma mingling with the fresh Mitsuba garnish. Beside it sat golden-brown cubes of Agedashi tofu, their crispy exterior glistening with light Tentsuyu sauce, topped with delicate strands of daikon and ginger.
A bowl of miso soup completed the spread, its surface dotted with tender pieces of tofu and dark green wisps of wakame. As a finishing touch, she'd added a small dish of pickled ginger, its bright pink color adding a cheerful note to the arrangement.
The front door clicked open just as she finished. Kakashi stepped inside; his eye downturn and movements slow. His visible eye stared as the aromatic steam hit him.
"Hinata..." he paused, taking in the carefully prepared meal. "I wasn't expecting..."
"I thought we both could use something better than instant ramen tonight," she said softly, meeting his gaze with a gentle smile.
A genuine warmth crossed his features. "This looks amazing. You didn't have to—"
"It was my pleasure, sensei," she interrupted quietly. "Please, sit."
They settled onto the chairs, the intimate setting of the table bringing them closer. Kakashi's eyes briefly scanned the reinforced seals around the apartment before focusing on the meal.
"This is incredible," he said, picking up his chopsticks. "Thank you."
They ate until Kakashi spoke, his voice heavy. "We need to discuss our next steps. Danzou won't remain quiet for long."
"I checked the tunnel as well," Hinata replied, then noticed his weary expression. "But perhaps that can wait?"
Kakashi sighed. "Jiraiya-sensei was killed in battle. We've been trying to decode his final message and help Naruto cope with the loss."
Hinata's chopsticks stilled. "The Akatsuki?"
"Their leader." Kakashi's voice was grim. "If someone like Jiraiya-sama fell... it shows just how dangerous they are. They'll come for Naruto eventually. There's also this prophecy business..." He shook his head. "But that's a conversation for another time."
"I'm sorry," Hinata said softly. "My situation is only adding to your burdens—"
"Don't." Kakashi's tone was firm but kind. "Your intelligence about the masked man could be crucial. But right now..." His eye crinkled in a genuine smile. "Let's enjoy this excellent meal you've prepared."
Elsewhere in the village, Tsunade sat alone in her darkened office, a half-empty bottle of sake her only companion.
Moonlight glinted off the framed picture on her desk—a younger her and Jiraiya's smiles frozen in time. With a trembling hand, she reached out and traced his face, a single tear rolling down her cheek.
The village slept, unaware of the shadows looming, the losses mounting, and the darkness threatening to consume them all.
TBC