Pre-word: Welcome to the start of Part 2!
In a lot of ways, this is kinda like what Shippuden is to the original Naruto. So to kick things off, I've given it a similar title scheme: Hinata Byakurenden (ヒナタ：白蓮伝 Hinata: White Lotus Chronicles). Also like the anime, Shippuden, this starts off with a flash forward into the future of the fic as the prologue.
To be honest, doing this flash forward is what made starting this next part of the story take so long. I don't normally like to do flash forwards, cause a lot of my ideas grow organically as I'm writing and many of my old ideas for where things go don't end up panning out. So I don't like trapping myself into things by writing flashes into the future. I'm going to give it a try here, however, and just hope it doesn't bite me in the butt, haha.
Anyways, for those that had been patiently waiting for this to start, here we are. For those just joining, I hope you continue to enjoy the ride!
Hinata: Byakurenden
Prologue: To the End
The sun loomed high above, an unrelenting inferno that pulsed and writhed as though it were alive—angry, vengeful, and insatiable. It dominated the sky, its blinding light casting jagged shadows across the ruined landscape below. The air itself seemed to ripple and distort under its oppressive heat, each wave distorting the horizon until the scorched earth bled into the heavens.
What remained of the Village Hidden in the Rain—now renamed the Village Hidden in a New Dawn—lay in ruin beneath this burning god. The gothic spires that once pierced the clouds like solemn prayers had crumbled, their skeletal remains jutting out from the sea of rubble like broken fingers clawing toward salvation. The lake, which had once mirrored the dark sky and endless rain, was now choked with debris—jagged stone, shattered glass, and twisted metal—its surface marred by the oily sheen of ash and blood.
Black flames still burned in scattered patches, their unnatural glow feeding the smoldering carnage. They hissed and crackled, consuming everything in their path without ever dimming. Their heat warped the air, adding to the acrid stench of scorched flesh and molten earth. Smoke rose in thick, choking columns, blotting out what little of the sky hadn't been overtaken by the light of the hateful sun.
Amidst this devastation lay a lone figure.
Hinata sprawled on her back, her chest rising and falling in shallow, labored breaths. Her pale eyes stared upward, unblinking, fixed on the colossal sun that threatened to devour everything. Her right eye—open and resolute—shimmered faintly with an imprint of a white lotus etched into her iris, a symbol of defiance that seemed to challenge the divine fury bearing down upon her. Her left eye, however, was swollen shut, the skin surrounding it blackened and distended to twice its normal size.
Her once-pristine miko robes, lovingly sewn by the hands of her Hinoshita cousins, were now in tatters. Long strips of fabric hung loosely, revealing glimpses of the reinforced fishnet armor beneath—its metallic weave darkened and warped by heat. Her exposed skin bore the brutal evidence of her struggle. Angry burns marred her arms and legs, the raw flesh glistening and cracked. Blood seeped from gashes that ran jagged across her body, staining what little of her clothing remained intact.
White steam hissed faintly from her skin, curling upward as if her very soul threatened to escape with it. Her muscles twitched violently beneath the surface, the aftershocks of having pushed herself beyond human limits. The Seventh Gate of the Hachimon had been forced open, her body ravaged by its overwhelming power and then pushed further still, infused with natural energy borrowed from Kali.
Even now, that borrowed strength flickered faintly within her veins, fighting to repair what was broken. Yet, for all its efforts, it couldn't keep up. The pain remained sharp and unyielding, her nerves screaming with every shallow breath, every slight movement. Her limbs felt like dead weight—unresponsive, heavy, foreign. Moving again would take a miracle.
But she couldn't afford to wait for one.
Hyūga Hinata's fight wasn't over. Not yet.
She was still there.
The goddess.
Her silhouette burned against the monstrous sun, a living shadow draped in divine fury. It was difficult to make out her features through the searing light, but Hinata didn't need to see her face to feel the weight of her wrath. The sun itself pulsed with Amaterasu's rage, each flare of heat an extension of her anger. The air shimmered under its oppressive weight, distorting the horizon as if reality itself bent to her will.
Ōhirume Amaterasu—the Goddess of the Sun and Flame—hovered above the ruins like a vengeful deity, her very presence commanding reverence and terror. Even amidst the devastation, she remained untouchable, unbroken. Her form radiated power, silhouetted by the blazing inferno she had summoned. And yet, Hinata saw something far more dangerous than divinity in her movements.
Hatred.
It rolled off Amaterasu in waves, fueling the unnatural heat and making the light burn hotter, sharper. This wasn't the hauntingly regal presence Hinata had first encountered—the goddess who had carried herself like a figure carved from myths and whispered prayers. Nor was this the deceptively tender being who had once spoken with honeyed words and feigned compassion.
No, this was something raw and unchained. This was fury given form, divine rage unrestrained.
Amaterasu began her descent, slow and deliberate, yet no less terrifying. Her form grew clearer with every inch she dropped from the heavens, as if her arrival marked a judgment—a punishment meant to burn the world clean. And in that descent, Hinata felt it. The unspoken acknowledgment.
She had become a nemesis.
Not a nuisance, not an obstacle to be swatted aside like the countless mortals before her, but a rival. An equal. A foe worthy of Amaterasu's hatred—a title the goddess had not granted since Ōtsutsuki Kaguya, her once-beloved friend turned adversary.
The thought both emboldened and terrified Hinata.
Her lungs ached, desperate for air. She forced them to obey, inhaling sharply even as fire lanced through her ribs. She could feel it—her body failing, tearing itself apart from the inside out. One lung had already collapsed, its shallow breaths barely keeping her conscious. The healing properties of natural energy tried to patch the damage, but it wasn't enough.
It wouldn't be enough.
But it would have to do.
Hinata clenched her teeth and pushed.
Her muscles screamed in protest, twitching violently as she struggled to sit up. The weight pressing down on her was unbearable, like gravity itself had turned against her. No—it wasn't gravity. It was the sun. The unnatural force of Amaterasu's creation bent the world around it, pulling everything into its suffocating orbit. Even with the power of the Seventh Gate coursing through her battered body, Hinata couldn't rise above her knees.
Her arms trembled as she braced against the ground, her fingers digging into the ash-laden soil. Her long blue hair hung in scorched strands around her face, the once-silken locks frayed and brittle. Her vision blurred, but she refused to stop.
Not now.
Not yet.
A flicker of motion caught her attention. The Gudōdama—her Truthseeker Orb—responded to her will, floating toward her as if drawn by instinct. Its smooth black surface hovered at her side, a silent sentinel that had endured when so much else had fallen.
Hinata managed a faint smile, gratitude blooming in the hollow ache of her chest. She reached out, her trembling fingers brushing the orb's surface, and willed it to change. The Gudōdama obeyed, shifting and reforming until it stretched into the shape of a Gohei. Its weight settled in her palm, grounding her.
Her knuckles turned white as she gripped it with both hands, planting the Shrine Maiden's staff into the ground and using it to brace herself. Inch by inch, she rose, the staff supporting what her legs couldn't. Her breaths came sharp and ragged, her knees threatening to buckle again, but she forced herself upright.
Standing wasn't victory, but it was defiance.
She lifted her head, pushing strands of burnt hair from her face, and finally looked her opponent in the eye.
Amaterasu's features were clearer now—terrible in their beauty. Her tan skin was streaked with soot and sweat, but no amount of grime could dull the ferocity of her presence. Her crimson Gurengan eyes blazed with light that rivaled the sun itself, and yet tears ran freely down her cheeks, cutting clean paths through the dirt and ash.
But this wasn't sadness.
It was grief sharpened into rage—loss hardened into hatred.
Her lips curled in a snarl, baring perfect white teeth as though she might tear Hinata apart with nothing more than her fury. Her nails—long and sharp like claws—dug into her palms, drawing thin lines of golden blood that dripped silently onto her torn red kimono. Once pristine, the garment was now tattered and scorched, its golden embroidery darkened and smeared with soot.
Her raven-black hair, once immaculate, now hung wild and tangled around her shoulders. Though she bore no visible wounds, the cracks in her divine facade were clear. Amaterasu wasn't unscathed—she was shaken.
This fight had cost her something.
Hinata saw it in the tremor of her hands, in the way her breath came uneven despite her attempts to appear composed. But that only made her more dangerous.
"I gave you mortals everything," Amaterasu's voice thundered, her words echoing through the wasteland. It wasn't just sound—it was force, vibrating in the bones, rattling through the ruined earth. "I gave you warmth, light, and prosperity! I lifted you out of the mud and the shadows, and this—" she swept her arms wide, gesturing to the devastation— "is how you repay me?"
Hinata winced at the sheer volume, but her gaze never wavered. Her fingers tightened around the staff, her battered body leaning heavily against it.
"You did this," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. But it carried. It reached Amaterasu, cutting through the goddess's fury like a blade.
Amaterasu froze, the words striking something deep and raw. Her crimson eyes burned brighter, but her voice cracked when she spoke again.
"I did this because you left me no choice!" she roared. The sun behind her flared brighter, bathing the world in its searing light. "If I cannot have love, then you will have nothing but fire and ash!"
Hinata's heart clenched, but she forced the fear aside.
This goddess—no matter how divine—could not be allowed to remain in this world. Not as she was. Not with this madness consuming her.
Hinata's breaths were shallow, every inhale searing her lungs as if she were breathing in fire instead of air. The world blurred at the edges, her vision darkening, her knees threatening to buckle under the impossible weight of the sun above. Yet her grip on the staff remained firm, knuckles bone-white as she forced herself to stay upright.
She couldn't fall.
Her pale eyes locked onto Amaterasu, whose crimson Gurengan burned with divine fury. The goddess radiated power, her tattered form somehow still regal, still unbowed despite the cracks that marred her perfection. Her golden blood shimmered faintly against the scorched fabric of her kimono, the stains standing out like battle scars. And yet, in those glowing eyes, Hinata saw something far more dangerous than rage.
Desperation.
Amaterasu's voice had cracked when she spoke, the echo of it trembling in the air like the fading toll of a bell. And in that crack, Hinata had seen the truth—the goddess was afraid. Afraid of being unloved. Afraid of being forgotten. Afraid of fading into obscurity.
But fear made her reckless.
Fear had led her to this moment, to a battlefield where fire and ruin reigned, where the world trembled beneath her wrath. It was a terror born of loneliness and pride, twisted into something monstrous—something that could never be allowed to exist in this world.
Hinata's resolve hardened.
Whatever pity she had once felt for the goddess was gone now, burned away by the flames that had claimed the lives of so many. Amaterasu wasn't just dangerous. She was a cataclysm waiting to happen. A force that would keep destroying, keep burning, until there was nothing left.
No matter the cost, Hinata had to stop her.
Her voice cut through the crackling heat, steady despite the pain lacing her every word. "I won't let you burn anything further."
Amaterasu flinched—barely, but enough for Hinata to see it.
The goddess's lips twisted into a snarl, her cracked nails rising as if to point at Hinata in an accusation. "You mortals think you have the right to deny me?" she hissed. Her voice rippled outward, shaking the earth beneath their feet. "You think you can judge me? Condemn me? You don't understand what it means to exist as I do! To be eternal and unloved! I gave you everything, and you spat in my face!"
Hinata stood her ground. "You didn't give us freedom to forge our own way."
"Freedom?" Amaterasu's voice rose, raw and jagged. "You don't need freedom! You need order! Purpose! Devotion! But no—no, you couldn't even give me that. And now look at what you've made me do." She gestured wildly at the scorched ruins surrounding them. "Look at what you've lost!"
Hinata's fingers tightened around the staff until they ached. "We lost it because of you."
For the first time, Amaterasu faltered.
And in that moment of hesitation, Hinata saw the truth. Amaterasu didn't understand. She couldn't. The goddess wasn't of this world—her mind was bound to a different set of rules, a different sense of reality. To her, worship wasn't a desire. It was a necessity. It was survival.
Hinata's heart clenched, but she didn't let the thought linger. It didn't matter whether Amaterasu was a victim of her own nature. What mattered was that she couldn't be allowed to remain.
Even if it cost Hinata everything.
Amaterasu's voice dropped to a whisper, her crimson eyes shining with grief. "You're just like her. Just like Kaguya." Her lips trembled before curling back into a snarl. "She betrayed me too. She stole what was mine. And now you—her descendant—seek to do the same!"
Hinata took a step forward, leaning heavily on her staff to keep herself upright. "I'm nothing like her." Her voice was steady, unshaken. "I'm not trying to take anything from you. I'm here to stop you."
Amaterasu's tears burned as they fell. "Then you'll die for it."
Hinata didn't flinch.
She took one last breath—sharp and painful—before pressing her trembling fingers to her chest, right over her heart. No—not her heart. The final tenketsu. The Eighth Gate.
The Gate of Death.
"I know."
Her voice was soft, but it carried through the ruins, cutting through the smoke and heat and chaos. She looked Amaterasu in the eye, and for the first time, the goddess stepped back.
"My name is Hyūga Hinata."
The words resonated, steady and unyielding, spoken with a finality that made even the flames seem to still.
"The White Lotus of the Hidden Leaf."
The Gohei in her hand pulsed faintly, as if answering her declaration.
"And by my name and title, I promise you this—"
Hinata's fingers pressed down, releasing the final gate.
A rush of energy erupted outward, searing through her veins like molten fire. Her muscles tore themselves apart and reformed in an instant, raw power flooding every fiber of her being. The white steam that once danced off her skin turned pink—bright and violent, like blood boiling from within. Her veins burned as chakra surged through them, stronger than she had ever felt, and yet carrying the weight of her death with every heartbeat.
"You shall not have love," Hinata declared, her voice ringing like a bell. "But we shall both have death."
Her eyes burned with determination, the faint lotus etched into her iris glowing brighter than before. The Fourth Dance—the Shi no Mai—a dance of death began.
…and Back to the Beginning
The Gates of Konoha loomed in the distance, their massive wooden frame standing as a testament to the village's resilience and enduring legacy. Hyūga Hinata, now just shy of sixteen, gazed at them with a mixture of awe and trepidation. It had been over two long years since she last stood before them, and the sight stirred a flood of memories that felt as vivid as if they had happened yesterday.
She recalled her departure vividly—the nervous goodbyes, the reassuring words from her teammates, and, most of all, the moment that still left her cheeks burning with embarrassment. It was the memory of her lips brushing Naruto's in a kiss so brief, so impulsive, that she could hardly believe she had mustered the courage to do it. Even now, her face reddened at the thought. Did he even remember it? Or had it been as fleeting for him as it had been monumental for her? The uncertainty made her heart flutter and sink in equal measure.
"Thinking about him again?" teased Uzuki Yugao, her traveling companion, a sly smirk tugging at her lips as she cast a knowing glance at Hinata.
Yugao, who had long since abandoned the ANBU mask she once wore, looked far more relaxed now than when their journey began. Her dark purple hair was tied neatly in a low ponytail, a few stray strands framing her sharp, elegant features. She wore a standard Konoha Jonin uniform, her flak jacket polished and well-maintained despite the wear and tear of travel. The katana slung across her back—a relic of her ANBU days—gleamed faintly in the sunlight, a silent reminder of her prowess.
Hinata groaned softly, turning her face away to hide her blush. "Yugao-san…" she muttered, her tone a mix of exasperation and embarrassment. They had grown close over the past two years, their bond forged through countless days of shared travel and training. Hinata had come to respect and trust Yugao deeply, but times like these made her long for the ANBU mask that had once shielded her traveling companion's teasing expressions.
Yugao chuckled, her smirk softening into a warm smile. "Relax, Hinata. I'm just teasing. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious to see his face when he sees you again. I bet he won't even recognize you at first."
Hinata's blush deepened, and she instinctively tugged at her robes, suddenly self-conscious. She had changed—more than she'd realized until now. Her figure had matured, slender but athletic from years of rigorous training. She had shot up several centimeters, now standing taller and more poised than ever before. Her once-short hair now cascaded to the middle of her back, tied neatly into a ponytail secured with an orange kumihimo cord—a cherished gift from Naruto during their first mission together. The vibrant accessory stood out starkly against her violet Shrine Maiden's robes, a gift from the final shrine she had visited. The robes, sewn with intricate care, were a soft lavender hue edged with white, a deviation from the traditional red of the Hinoshita clan. The fabric shimmered faintly in the sunlight, catching the breeze and giving her an almost ethereal appearance.
Her attire wasn't just beautiful; it carried meaning. It echoed the garments of her previous reincarnations, and every thread seemed to tie her to Kali, the Ōtsutsuki spirit whose power she now shared. The weight of that legacy pressed on her, but it also gave her strength. She smoothed the fabric nervously, glancing at Yugao. "You think my outfit is… alright?"
Yugao's smile widened, and she placed a reassuring hand on Hinata's shoulder. "Hinata, you look incredible. Those robes suit you perfectly—like they were made for you. Trust me, you'll turn more than a few heads."
Before Hinata could respond, they stepped through the gates, and the familiar sights and sounds of Konoha greeted them. The village was alive with activity. Merchants called out to potential customers from their stalls, their voices blending into a chorus of bustling chatter. Children darted through the streets, laughing as they played tag, their sandals kicking up puffs of dust. The scent of freshly baked bread wafted from a nearby bakery, mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest that surrounded the village. Overhead, the sun shone brightly, its light casting a warm golden glow over the red-tiled rooftops and winding streets.
Hinata paused to take it all in, her Nichiren Byakugan faintly activating as she surveyed the familiar sights. The village looked much the same as when she'd left, yet it felt different somehow—smaller, almost. She realized that the change wasn't in Konoha but in herself. Two years of pilgrimage, training, and growth had shifted her perspective.
"Feels good to be home, doesn't it?" Yugao said softly, her tone uncharacteristically gentle as she stood beside Hinata.
Hinata nodded, her gaze lingering on a group of shinobi passing by. She recognized a few familiar faces, but none of them seemed to notice her. For a moment, she felt like a stranger in her own village. Then her thoughts turned to Naruto again, and her heart fluttered nervously. Would he notice her? Would he still see her the way he had before she left?
As if sensing her thoughts, Yugao nudged her playfully. "Don't worry. You're not the same shy girl who left this village two years ago. Trust me, everyone's going to notice just how much you've grown—especially him."
Hinata bit her lip, unsure whether that thought excited or terrified her. Still, she couldn't deny the swell of pride that rose in her chest. She had changed. She had grown stronger, more confident. And as she walked through the gates of Konoha, her violet robes fluttering in the breeze, she resolved to show the village—and herself—just how far she had come.
She was home.
While Naruto had been the one to see her off, Hinata couldn't help but glance around the scenery, hoping to see him waiting to welcome her back. There was no sign of him, though, and a pang of disappointment settled in her chest. She reminded herself that he couldn't have known when she would return—her arrival had been uncertain even to her until the final shrine was purified. Still, she couldn't stop herself from wishing for it.
Before the feeling could linger too long, a familiar voice broke through her thoughts.
"Hinata!"
Hinata froze mid-step, glancing instinctively as she turned toward the sound. Her heart leapt as she spotted her former squad leader waiting just beyond the bustling streets. Yūhi Kurenai, her mentor and one of her most trusted figures, stood there with a soft smile. Without a second thought, Hinata broke into a run.
"Kurenai-sensei!?" she called, her voice carrying a note of disbelief and joy. The years melted away in an instant, and she almost collided into her teacher's arms before catching herself at the last moment. It wasn't Kurenai's warm smile that stopped her, but the sight of her rounded stomach, unmistakably swollen with pregnancy.
"You're pregnant?" Hinata gasped, her voice equal parts shock and delight. She stepped back, her gaze darting down to her teacher's belly and back to her face.
Kurenai stood before her, radiant despite the changes brought by pregnancy. Her long, jet-black hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her striking crimson eyes, which seemed even softer now, filled with maternal warmth. Her complexion, always pale and flawless, had a faint glow that enhanced her natural beauty. She wore a loose, flowing dark purple maternity yukata with floral patterns embroidered in delicate silver thread, cinched just above her swollen belly. The attire was simple yet elegant, perfectly suited to her composed and nurturing demeanor.
Kurenai, ever poised, responded with a soft laugh. "Welcome home, Hinata," she said, her voice gentle as she wrapped the younger girl in a hug. Despite her condition, Kurenai's embrace was firm, full of warmth and unspoken pride. "You've grown so beautiful over these past two years."
Hinata pulled back slightly, her lavender eyes wide with emotion. Her cheeks flushed, not from shyness but from the rush of affection and relief that came with seeing her mentor again. "Is Asuma-sensei…?"
Kurenai's expression softened, her cheeks tinged pink as she placed a protective hand over her belly. "Yes," she admitted, her smile turning a little shy, an expression Hinata wasn't used to seeing on her normally composed teacher. "It's his."
Hinata's own smile widened as the reality of it sank in. "Congratulations, Kurenai-sensei. I'm so happy for you." Without hesitation, she pulled Kurenai into another hug, this one slower and more deliberate. "You deserve this so much."
Kurenai's voice wavered slightly as she whispered, "Thank you, Hinata. It's because of you that I can be here today, carrying this child."
Hinata pulled back, her lavender eyes wide with surprise. "Me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Kurenai nodded, her crimson gaze unwavering as she held Hinata's hands. "After Orochimaru's attack… after I was struck by his blade…" Her voice faltered momentarily, the memory clearly still fresh and painful. "When the poison spread through my body, the doctors told me there was no cure. They said I wouldn't make it past the month. Asuma was at my side every moment, but even he had begun to prepare himself for the worst."
Hinata's chest tightened, her mind flashing back to that time—the sight of Kurenai writhing in pain, her body pale and weakening, and the desperate look in Asuma's eyes as he refused to leave her. She remembered the weight of their mission to retrieve the Moonfire Blossom, a flower so rare and elusive it was thought to be a myth by some. She remembered the volcanic shrine where it grew, the searing heat, the sulfur-laden air, and the perilous climb to reach it.
Kurenai continued, her voice growing steadier. "But then you came. You took charge and led our squad while I couldn't. You found the Moonfire Blossom. You brought it back to me." Her lips trembled into a faint smile, her eyes glistening. "You saved my life, Hinata. And more than that—you gave me and Asuma a second chance."
Hinata swallowed hard, her heart pounding as the weight of Kurenai's words sank in. She had always viewed the mission as just another duty—something any ninja in her position would have done. But now, hearing this, she realized how much more it had meant. It wasn't just about saving her sensei; it had been about preserving the bond between two people who loved each other deeply, giving them the chance to share a life they had almost lost.
"After I recovered," Kurenai went on, her hand instinctively resting over her belly, "Asuma and I had a long talk. About what mattered most to us. About how fragile life could be. And we decided… we couldn't wait anymore. Not after coming so close to losing everything." Her smile turned soft, almost shy. "This child is our promise to each other. Our way of cherishing the time we've been given."
Hinata's breath hitched as her eyes filled with tears. Her sensei's words painted a vivid picture in her mind: Asuma and Kurenai, holding each other after the ordeal, deciding to embrace life fully despite the lingering fears and uncertainties. And at the center of it all was the mission Hinata had led—the mission that had made it all possible.
"Kurenai-sensei…" Hinata's voice trembled, her throat tightening with emotion. She struggled to find the words, to express how much this revelation meant to her. "I never thought… I didn't know it meant so much…"
Kurenai's grip on her hands tightened, grounding her. "It meant everything, Hinata," she said firmly. "Your strength, your determination to see that mission through—it saved me. And it reminded us both that we couldn't take a single moment for granted."
A wave of pride and gratitude washed over Hinata, filling every corner of her being. For so long, she had struggled to believe in her own worth, to see herself as someone capable of making a difference. But now, standing here, hearing these words from her sensei, she felt something shift inside her. For the first time, she truly understood the impact she had made—not just as a ninja, but as a person.
She blinked rapidly, trying to keep her tears from spilling over. "Thank you, Kurenai-sensei," she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. "For believing in me. For everything."
Kurenai's smile widened as she pulled Hinata into another hug, her embrace warm and full of unspoken pride. "No, Hinata," she said softly. "Thank you. For giving me my life back."
The weight of those words hung in the air, filling the room with an almost tangible sense of gratitude and love. Hinata's throat tightened as she hugged her mentor back, her heart swelling with both pride and humility. This wasn't just a moment of reunion—it was a reaffirmation of everything Hinata had fought for, the lives she had touched, and the bonds she had strengthened.
As they pulled apart, a quiet, unspoken understanding passed between them. And in that shared space, Hinata felt an unshakable resolve take root in her heart. She had helped Kurenai once before, and she would continue to fight for the people she cared about—no matter the odds.
The sound of soft footsteps broke the moment, followed by a playful voice. "You had perfect timing," Yugao chimed in from where she stood nearby, her arms crossed casually. Her eyes glimmered with a hint of amusement as she glanced between the two women. "How did you know we'd be arriving today?"
Hinata blinked, realizing Yugao had a point. She hadn't sent any word ahead of her return. Kurenai shouldn't have known when they'd arrive.
Kurenai's smile turned sheepish. "This is technically a C-rank mission," she admitted. "The Hokage assigned me to escort you to his office. I may not be able to take on missions in my condition, but Itachi-sama allowed me this one. He said it would be fitting for me to welcome you home."
The mention of Itachi brought Hinata up short. "The Hokage?" she asked, her voice tinged with confusion.
Kurenai tilted her head toward the Hokage Monument, where the stone faces of the village's leaders loomed over Konoha. Following her teacher's gaze, Hinata looked up—and her breath caught.
There, carved into the rock alongside the familiar faces of Hashirama, Tobirama, Hiruzen, and Minato, was Uchiha Itachi. His stone visage was every bit as striking and enigmatic as the man himself, the Sharingan carved into his eyes glinting ominously in the sunlight. His expression was calm, regal even, but there was an undeniable edge to it, a reminder of the weight he carried as both a protector and a shadow of the village's darkest truths.
For a moment, Hinata couldn't breathe. The sight of his face looming above the village sent her mind spiraling back to the nightmare of Tsukuyomi—the suffocating red sea, the unrelenting pain of dying again and again, the chains that bound her to the abyss as Itachi's cold voice echoed in her ears. She could almost feel the phantom sensation of his katana piercing her chest, the helplessness of being trapped in his world with no escape.
Her hands trembled at her sides as the memories clawed at her mind, but she forced herself to push them away. This wasn't Tsukuyomi. That ordeal was behind her, and the man who had inflicted it upon her was not the same one who now stood as Konoha's leader.
She took a slow, deep breath, grounding herself. In the years since that terrifying encounter, much had changed. She had faced Itachi again, not as his victim but as an equal in a tense alliance. She had seen the lengths he was willing to go to protect the village, the burdens he carried in silence. And though her fear of him had never fully faded, it had been tempered by understanding and, begrudgingly, respect.
"He's… the Godaime Hokage?" Hinata murmured, struggling to reconcile the man she had once feared with the leader now immortalized in stone.
Kurenai nodded. "He was formally named Hokage not long after you left. At first, the council balked, but his actions during the aftermath of Amaterasu's attack left no room for doubt. The village needed someone like him."
Hinata nodded slowly, her thoughts swirling. She remembered the devastation wrought by Amaterasu's power, the chaos that had nearly consumed Konoha. Itachi had stepped into the void, his calculated precision and unyielding resolve stabilizing the village when it needed it most.
Her gaze lingered on the monument. The Sharingan carved into Itachi's stone eyes seemed to look down on the village with a quiet vigilance, as though the man himself were still watching, protecting, even from the afterlife.
"He's always been… terrifying," she admitted softly, more to herself than to Kurenai. "But I can't deny what he's done for the village. I didn't understand it before, but now… I think I do."
Kurenai's expression softened. "Itachi is a complex man, Hinata. His methods have always been extreme, but his loyalty to Konoha has never wavered. Becoming Hokage wasn't just a title for him—it's the culmination of everything he's sacrificed."
Hinata's lips pressed into a thin line. She thought of Naruto, who had once spoken of his dream to become Hokage with a fiery determination that had lit up his entire being. His vision for the role was one of hope and connection, a leader who would protect everyone he cared about. Itachi's path to the title was far darker, paved with blood and betrayal. And yet, both men shared the same unshakable resolve to protect their home.
"Itachi's actions… they've shaped so much of what's happened," Hinata said quietly. "Even when I feared him for what he did, I couldn't ignore the way he always seemed to be two steps ahead. He saved us in ways we didn't even realize."
Kurenai placed a gentle hand on Hinata's shoulder. "And now, he's ensuring that the sacrifices he made weren't in vain. His time as Hokage has already strengthened Konoha in ways we couldn't have imagined."
Hinata nodded, her eyes lingering on the monument a moment longer. The fear she had once felt for Itachi would always be a part of her, but so too would the lessons she had learned from him. In his own way, he had shown her the strength of conviction, the cost of duty, and the importance of protecting what mattered most.
As she turned her gaze away from the monument, she felt a quiet resolve settle within her. Itachi's legacy, like his path, was complicated. But it was one she would honor—not out of fear, but out of respect for everything he had done to protect the village they both called home.
"You probably have a lot to catch up on," Kurenai said, her voice warm as she placed a gentle hand on Hinata's shoulder. Her touch was steadying, comforting, like it had been so many times before. "Let's talk on the way to the tower."
Hinata fell into step beside her, their pace unhurried as they moved through the bustling streets. The village buzzed with life around them: shopkeepers calling out to customers, children darting through the alleys, and shinobi weaving through the crowd with purposeful strides. But for Hinata, the only thing that truly mattered in this moment was reconnecting with her teacher.
"How is everyone?" Hinata asked, her voice tinged with hope and a flicker of apprehension. She had been away for so long—what if too much had changed?
"They're all doing well," Kurenai assured her, her smile warm and knowing. "Kiba, Shino, and even Tayuya have all been promoted to Chūnin. And Neji…" She paused, a glimmer of pride in her eyes. "Neji is a Jōnin now. He's leading your team in my place while I'm on leave."
Hinata gasped, her lavender eyes widening. "Neji is a Jōnin?" She could hardly believe it. Her cousin had always been talented, but the thought of him leading their team in Kurenai's stead filled her with awe—and a bittersweet pang of regret.
Kurenai nodded, her steps slow and deliberate. "He's earned it. He's grown so much, just like you. He's really taken to leadership. I think, in some ways, it helps him honor the promises he made—to you, and to the Hyūga Clan."
Hinata's heart swelled with pride, but also a tinge of sadness. "I wish I could have been there to see it," she said softly. Her gaze drifted to the familiar streets around her, and a wave of nostalgia washed over her. The last time she had walked here, she had been so unsure of herself, clinging to the faintest sparks of courage that Naruto had inspired in her. How much had she missed while she was away?
"They've all missed you too," Kurenai said gently, as if sensing Hinata's thoughts. "They all wanted to be here to welcome you back, but an urgent mission came up."
"I understand," Hinata replied, though she couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. "Still, I'm so proud of them. Of all of us."
Kurenai's smile softened. "You should be. Team Eight has come a long way. You're not just the timid girl who hid behind her bangs anymore, Hinata. You've grown into a leader in your own right."
Hinata blushed, her fingers brushing against the kumihimo cord tying her hair into a ponytail—a gift from Naruto. "I… I hope so. I've tried my best."
They continued walking, the sights and sounds of Konoha stirring a deep sense of nostalgia within Hinata. She caught glimpses of familiar places: the training ground where Kiba and Akamaru had once challenged her to a race, the tea shop where Shino had patiently explained his clan's techniques over steaming cups of jasmine tea. Every corner seemed to carry a memory.
They walked a little further, the quiet between them filled with the sounds of the village. Hinata's mind drifted to other memories: Kiba's boisterous laughter as he tried to outdo Shino in a sparring match, Shino's quiet but steady encouragement when her nerves had gotten the better of her during a mission. The way Kurenai had always believed in her, even when she hadn't believed in herself.
"How is Tayuya?" Hinata asked after a moment, her curiosity piqued. "Has she… settled in?"
Kurenai's expression grew thoughtful. "She's come a long way. At first, she kept everyone at arm's length, but Kiba and Shino didn't let her stay that way for long. They've really helped her find her place."
Hinata nodded, her chest swelling with pride. She remembered how Tayuya had struggled to trust anyone, her sharp tongue and defensive attitude masking years of pain and mistrust. To hear that she had found her footing in Konoha—it was more than Hinata had dared to hope for.
"Neji was the one who vouched for her promotion," Kurenai added. "He told Hokage-sama she had earned her place on the team. I think that meant a lot to her."
Hinata smiled, the thought of Neji advocating for Tayuya filling her with a deep sense of gratitude. "I'm glad. She's been through so much. I'm happy she's found people who support her."
"You were the one who gave her that chance," Kurenai reminded her gently. "Don't underestimate the impact you've had, Hinata. You may have missed their growth, but it was your influence that set them on that path."
Hinata's steps faltered for a moment, her heart catching in her chest. The regret she had felt—the ache of missing her team's progress—began to ease. Kurenai's words were a reminder that her absence hadn't diminished the bonds they shared. If anything, they had only grown stronger.
As they approached the Hokage Tower, the familiar silhouette of the village's heart coming into view, Kurenai placed a hand on Hinata's shoulder once more. "You've given so much to this village, Hinata. To your team. Don't ever forget that."
Hinata looked up at her teacher, her lavender eyes shining with determination. "I won't. And I'll do everything I can to keep growing—so I can be someone they're proud of."
Kurenai smiled, her pride in her student unmistakable. "You already are."
Despite their meandering pace, Kurenai, Hinata, and Yugao reached the Hokage Tower far sooner than Hinata would have liked. The towering structure loomed above them, its red walls and curved roofs gilded with the late afternoon sun. Each step up the staircase felt heavier than the last, not from physical exhaustion but from the emotional weight of returning to this place after so long. The building remained as she remembered it, yet it felt different, as though the years had given it a new gravity.
At the top of the stairs, Kurenai stopped, turning to face Hinata with a bittersweet smile. Her crimson eyes shimmered with unspoken emotion, and her hands rested gently over the curve of her pregnant belly. "This is the end of my mission," she said softly, her tone laced with reluctant finality. "I know you'll be busy with your family and your duties, but… when you have the time, come see me."
"Of course, I will." Hinata's response came without hesitation, her voice steady despite the lump forming in her throat. She stepped forward and embraced Kurenai tightly, careful not to press too hard. "Thank you for being the one to greet me. It means so much."
Kurenai held her close, her warmth grounding Hinata in the moment. "You've grown into such a strong young woman," she murmured, her voice thick with pride. "And I know you'll only continue to amaze us."
Hinata pulled back, her lavender eyes shimmering but resolute. She smiled through the rush of emotion, unwilling to let tears mar this moment. With a final goodbye, she and Yugao turned to the heavy double doors of the Hokage's office and stepped inside.
The room was both familiar and unfamiliar, its essence the same but its atmosphere transformed. The Hokage's office, once a blend of cozy simplicity and lived-in wear, now exuded an air of stark efficiency and restrained authority. The walls were lined with neatly organized scrolls and documents, the clutter of personal mementos replaced by a meticulous order. The desk, an imposing piece of carved oak, was piled with paperwork that seemed untouched, as though the man behind it had more pressing matters than mere bureaucracy.
And there he was.
Uchiha Itachi sat at the center of the room, a figure both regal and intimidating. Gone was the black cloak of the shadows he once operated within, replaced by the resplendent white and red robes of the Hokage. The wide sleeves bore the kanji for "Fire," a symbol of his title, while the red flames at the hem seemed to flicker with the weight of the role. The Hokage's hat rested on a nearby stand, its presence a silent reminder of the station he now commanded.
His face was calm, composed, yet there was an undeniable intensity to him, as if the very air around him held its breath in deference. The Sharingan in his eyes glinted faintly even in the ambient light, their swirling pattern a stark contrast to the serenity of his expression. Unlike Hiruzen's grandfatherly warmth, Itachi radiated an aura of deliberate control—a man who carried the weight of Konoha on his shoulders with both grace and unyielding resolve.
"Welcome home, Hyūga Hinata. Uzuki Yugao." Itachi's voice was as steady and measured as ever, its calm cadence carrying an authority that needed no raising. He sat with his fingers interlaced on the desk before him, his gaze sharp but not unkind. "You've been expected."
"Lord Fifth." Yugao inclined her head in a respectful bow, her movements sharp and practiced. Hinata mirrored her a beat later, though the gesture felt heavier as the reality of Itachi's title settled over her. Hearing of his ascension was one thing; standing before him now, in the robes of the Hokage, made it undeniable.
"Be at ease," Itachi said, his lips curving faintly upward in a gesture that was more polite than warm. "You've traveled far, and there is much to discuss. But first, Yugao, I'd like your report."
"Yes, sir!" Yugao responded crisply, stepping forward without hesitation. Her voice was steady as she recounted their two years of travel, detailing Hinata's progress in combat, chakra control, and spiritual training. She spoke of the trials they faced, the shrines they purified, and the power Hinata had gained under Kali's tutelage.
Hinata listened in silence, her hands clasped tightly before her. Though she had lived every moment Yugao described, hearing it presented so matter-of-factly to the Hokage lent it a weight she hadn't fully grasped until now.
When Yugao finished, Itachi nodded. "Thank you for your report," he said, his tone contemplative. He shifted his gaze to Hinata, the crimson of his Sharingan seeming to pierce through her. "And you, Hinata. I would hear your account."
Hinata stepped forward, her heart thudding heavily in her chest. She recounted her journey in her own words, detailing the lessons Kali had imparted in the interstate and how she had applied them in the real world. She spoke of the purity rituals, the battles fought alongside Yugao, and the deeper understanding of her own power she had gained.
But before she could finish, Itachi's next words sent a jolt through her.
"Ohirume Amaterasu has founded a new village," he said simply, his tone devoid of emotion, as though he were discussing the weather.
Hinata's breath caught. "S-Sir?" she stammered, her composure slipping for the first time in years. The information was staggering, and the timing unexpected.
"I will spare you the details for now," Itachi continued, his gaze steady. "But the reality is this: Amaterasu now has a following. Her power appears to be growing with the worship she receives. A confrontation with her could happen at any moment." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "The question is, are you ready?"
The last time she had faced Amaterasu, Hinata had been utterly defeated. The memory of her broken body and shattered resolve lingered at the edges of her mind, but she forced herself to push it aside. That Hinata was gone. She had trained for this, endured for this.
"I am prepared to fight Amaterasu… and defeat her. No matter what it takes." Her voice was firm, unwavering.
Itachi studied Hinata for a long moment, his gaze piercing yet unreadable. The silence stretched between them, heavy with expectation. Then, slowly, he nodded, the faintest hint of approval flickering in his crimson eyes. "Very well," he said, his tone measured and calm. "Tonight, you will report to the Forest of Death. There, we will see the extent of your progress."
Hinata blinked, her heart skipping a beat. Her mind raced to process his words. The Forest of Death? That wasn't just its name—it was a warning, one Hinata had learned to respect during her first visit. She could still recall the oppressive atmosphere of that place, the eerie silence broken only by the distant cries of predators and the rustling of unseen threats in the undergrowth. The thick canopy above blocked out most of the sunlight, leaving the forest floor dim and foreboding even during the day.
Her stomach twisted as she remembered the constant tension, the feeling of being watched. The towering trees, their gnarled roots snaking across the uneven ground, seemed to close in on her as she ran through the forest with her team, every step a gamble. Every sound had felt like a potential threat, whether from the rival genin teams competing for survival or the forest's own inhabitants—poisonous plants, venomous snakes, and massive, predatory beasts that roamed freely.
Hinata could still see flashes of those moments: Shino's calm focus as his insects scouted ahead, Kiba's fierce determination as Akamaru growled at a distant threat. And herself—hesitant, uncertain, struggling to keep up. It had been one of the first times she had truly faced the reality of a shinobi's life. The bruises, the cuts, the exhaustion—she had carried them all out of that forest, along with the realization that she had to become stronger.
And now, she was being asked to return. To face that place again, but this time under the scrutiny of Uchiha Itachi. But she wasn't the same girl anymore. The Hinata who had entered that forest during the Chūnin Exams was hesitant, unsure, and fragile. The Hinata who stood here now was stronger—she had to believe that.
But still, the idea of sparring against Itachi himself made her knees weak. "You can't mean I have to fight against you?" The words tumbled out before she could stop them, her voice tinged with nervousness. The very idea of facing Itachi in a sparring match made her stomach churn. Memories of their first encounter flickered in her mind—the suffocating weight of his presence, the unrelenting torment of his Tsukuyomi.
To her surprise, Itachi chuckled softly, the sound low and uncharacteristically warm. It wasn't mocking, but there was a faint trace of amusement in it. "No," he said, his voice carrying an almost imperceptible gentleness. "I assure you, Hinata, I have no intention of sparring with you tonight. There is someone far more suited to the task."
Hinata exhaled a quiet sigh of relief, though her confusion deepened. "Then… who?"
Itachi's lips curved into a slight, enigmatic smile, his gaze shifting toward the window. "You'll see soon enough," he said cryptically. "And truthfully, he wouldn't allow me to assign the role to anyone else."
Before Hinata could press further, the sharp crash of a window being thrown open drew her attention to the other side of the office. A whirlwind of motion and energy filled the room as a figure leapt inside, landing with effortless precision.
"That'd be me, y'know!"
Hinata's heart skipped again—this time for an entirely different reason. Her lavender eyes widened as they locked onto the figure standing confidently before her. The golden light of the sun streamed through the shattered window, casting an almost ethereal glow around him. The vibrant blonde hair, as unruly and spiky as ever, was unmistakable. But it was the rest of him that truly caught her off guard.
"N-Naruto-kun…" Hinata murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
He had changed. Gone was the boy who had charged headfirst into every situation with reckless abandon. The man standing before her was taller, his frame lean but undeniably strong, a testament to countless hours of grueling training. His bright blue eyes still sparkled with the same unyielding determination she remembered, but there was a maturity in his gaze that hadn't been there before—a confidence that was almost infectious.
Naruto's outfit mirrored Kakashi's standard Jōnin attire, but with unmistakable personal touches. The green flak jacket was neatly tailored, fitting him like a second skin, but orange stripes ran boldly down the sleeves of his long-sleeved undershirt and the sides of his pants. It was a striking contrast that made the outfit undeniably his. The Konoha headband was tied securely around his forehead, the metal gleaming as if freshly polished. And unlike Kakashi, Naruto's face was fully visible, his boyish grin replaced by a more self-assured smirk.
Naruto's hands rested on his hips as he struck a playful pose, his grin widening. "Long time no see, Hinata! I hear you've gotten crazy strong. Guess that means we've got unfinished business to settle!"
Hinata's thoughts swirled in a whirlwind of emotions. It had been two years since she had last seen him, and the sight of him now was almost overwhelming. He looked every bit the hero she had always believed him to be, but there was something different—something that made her chest tighten in a way she couldn't quite describe.
"I…" she started, her voice faltering. Her breath hitched slightly as the sudden memory of her confession struck her like lightning. The words she had blurted out before leaving for her pilgrimage echoed loudly in her mind. I love you. Her cheeks burned as though set ablaze, and her gaze darted downward, focusing intently on the floor. She shifted her weight awkwardly, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.
Her thoughts raced, and for a moment, she forgot how to respond, caught between the weight of her own memories and the intensity of his presence.
"I know you haven't forgotten our promise, right?" Naruto said, his tone uncharacteristically serious. Or perhaps he really had matured in the years she'd been away. His usual grin was still there, but his eyes held a depth that hadn't been present before. "You beat Gaara in the arena… and while it wasn't an official match, I beat Sasuke in a one-on-one fight. Even he acknowledges it. That's why you and I have to settle our match tonight. It doesn't matter that we've both already been promoted to Chūnin." He chuckled softly, the sound more grounded than she remembered.
"Technically, you're a Special Jōnin already," Itachi mumbled off to the side, his voice as calm and detached as ever. Naruto's eyes darted briefly toward him, a faint smirk tugging at his lips, but he quickly returned his focus to Hinata.
"We don't go back on our word, Hinata," Naruto continued, his voice firm. "That's our ninja way. You haven't forgotten, have you?"
Hinata froze for a moment, his words striking her more deeply than she expected. Of course, she hadn't forgotten. But in that instant, she realized where her reservations were truly coming from. It wasn't fear of the Forest of Death or the idea of fighting a Hokage's hand-picked opponent. It wasn't even the anxiety of putting her progress on display after two years of grueling training.
It was Naruto.
Naruto had been her guiding light, the one who had given her the ninja way she lived by. His unwavering determination and refusal to give up had been her inspiration for so long, the shadow she had chased in her own journey. And now, the thought of fighting him—of truly standing in front of him as his equal—terrified her far more than any opponent ever could. Because if she failed, if she faltered in this moment, it wouldn't just be a loss. It would mean she hadn't closed the gap. That she was still running behind him, in his shadow.
But Naruto's words pierced through her fear like a blade, grounding her in the promise they had made. She had to confront him, to honor the ninja way they both lived by. To run from this, to simply lean on the confession she had left him with before her journey, would have been a betrayal of everything she stood for. If she wanted to be by his side—not just as someone he admired, but as someone who could stand as his equal—then this had to come first.
Hinata took a deep breath, steeling herself as she met Naruto's gaze. She felt her resolve solidify, the weight of her doubts giving way to something stronger. Determination.
"I haven't forgotten, Naruto-kun," she said at last, her voice steady and clear. A smile spread across her face—not the shy, hesitant expression she might have worn in the past, but one filled with quiet confidence. "I haven't forgotten, and I won't back down."
For a moment, Naruto simply stared at her, and then his grin widened, his blue eyes shining with approval and excitement. "Good," he said, nodding. "Because I'm not going to hold back."
Neither was she. This wasn't just a promise to Naruto or to herself—it was her chance to show the village, and the world, the fruits of her labor. To prove that she had grown, that she had stepped out of the shadow she had once lived in.
"I'm not going to lose," she added, her voice unwavering. This wasn't just confidence; it was her truth.
Chapter End
AN: The Shi no Mai （シの舞）can be translated two ways, either the Fourth（四）Dance, or the Dance of Death（死）, both Four and Death able to be read as 'Shi' in Japanese.
I'm sure that Prologue has a lot of people concerned for where this story is going… but, we'll get there. For those who have read my other stuff, you should have an idea for the type of endings that I like (to give a pretty big hint for the general resolution).
Hinata's appearance as of this chapter also reflects the story cover image.