CHAPTER 21

Sasuke stood beneath a tree by the edge of the training field, his dark eyes fixed on the figure lying motionless on the ground. Hinata had collapsed suddenly, her body crumpling as though all the life had been drained from her.

"Hinata," he murmured, dropping to his knees beside her. His voice was calm, but there was a tension in it that betrayed his worry. Her breathing was shallow, her pale face unusually still. He gently shook her shoulder, his hand steady despite the growing unease gnawing at him. "Hinata, wake up."

But she didn't stir.

He frowned, his sharp gaze scanning her for any sign of injury. There was nothing visible, no wounds, no chakra burns, no indication of what had caused her to collapse so suddenly. His mind raced. She had been fine moments ago, her usual composed self, though there had been an odd edge to her demeanor lately.

"Hinata…" he said again, his voice barely above a whisper.

When she didn't respond, he scooped her up into his arms, rising effortlessly to his feet. He didn't hesitate. With a firm grip on her, he leaped into the trees, his movements swift and precise as he raced toward the hospital. The wind rushed past him, but his focus remained on the woman in his arms.

Her breathing was still shallow, her body unsettlingly limp. His jaw clenched.

In a blur, he landed outside Konoha's hospital and pushed through the entrance. Nurses gasped as he strode in, but he ignored them. "Where's Sakura?" he demanded, his voice sharp.

Almost immediately, a familiar voice cut through the murmurs. "Sasuke?" Sakura turned the corner, eyes widening when she saw Hinata. She rushed forward, her expression shifting into pure professionalism.

"What happened?" she asked, already activating her chakra-coated hands.

"She collapsed. No injuries. No warning," he said, his tone clipped. "She's not waking up."

Sakura nodded, all business now. "Lay her down, quickly."

He obeyed, placing Hinata gently on the examination bed. Sakura wasted no time, her hands glowing as she scanned Hinata's body, her brows furrowing deeper with every second. After a long pause, she exhaled. "Physically, she's fine. Her chakra network is stable, her vitals are normal, but…"

"But what?" he demanded, his tone sharper than intended.

She frowned. "It's as if her consciousness isn't here. Her body is functioning, but her mind… it's somewhere else."

His jaw tightened. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know for sure," she admitted, eyes still focused on Hinata. "I've seen similar cases before, but they always involved severe trauma or advanced genjutsu. Neither applies here."

A heavy silence settled in the room. Sasuke's mind raced, searching for answers.

Sakura softened slightly. "She's strong. Whatever this is, she'll fight her way back. But until she does, all we can do is wait."

He nodded stiffly, his gaze never leaving Hinata's still form.

The Hyuuga Compound was bustling with activity, servants hurrying about, attending to their tasks. Inside, the air was heavy with unease. In the center of her room, surrounded by pristine white walls and delicate furnishings, Hinata Hyuuga lay motionless on her bed.

Sasuke stood at the foot of the bed, his dark eyes locked on her still form. His fists were clenched at his sides, his expression an unreadable mask. But beneath the surface, his emotions churned violently. She hadn't moved since she collapsed. No sign of pain, no indication of injury, just a sudden, inexplicable loss of consciousness.

"Hinata," he murmured, his voice soft but strained. He had called her name countless times since it happened, but the silence that followed never ceased to twist the knife in his chest.

The door burst open, and Hanabi stepped inside, her usually fierce eyes red-rimmed from tears. "How is she?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"The same," he replied flatly, though his tone betrayed his frustration.

Her gaze flicked to her sister, and for a moment, her bravado faltered. She knelt beside the bed, clutching her sister's hand. "Onee-san… please wake up." Her whisper was barely audible, but the pain in her voice was unmistakable.

A heavy presence filled the room as Hiashi entered, his expression grim. Neji followed closely behind, his face carefully composed. The clan head stood at the foot of the bed, his sharp gaze shifting from Hinata to Sasuke. "What happened?" he demanded, his tone brooking no argument.

Sasuke turned to face him, his dark eyes unwavering. "She collapsed. No warning, no visible injuries. Sakura examined her and found nothing, no chakra disruption, no physical damage. She's alive, but…" He hesitated, his jaw tightening. "It's like her consciousness isn't here."

The older man's brows furrowed, and he looked at Neji, who nodded solemnly.

"We've tried everything," Neji said, stepping forward. "But there's no sign of genjutsu or external influence." He hesitated. "It's as if she… left."

The word hung in the air, heavy and foreboding.

Hanabi stood abruptly, her fists clenched. "What do you mean, left? Onee-san wouldn't just leave us!"

"She didn't," Sasuke said firmly, his voice cutting through the tension. "This isn't her choice. Something happened, and we don't understand it yet."

Hiashi's face hardened, his commanding presence filling the room. "Then we will find answers. No matter what it takes."

But despite the Hyuuga clan's efforts, no progress was made. Weeks passed, and Hinata remained as still and silent as the day she collapsed.

The last traces of sunlight bled into the horizon, the air was hushed, thick with an unspoken tension that had settled over the household since Hinata collapsed. Neji stepped into the room, his presence calm yet unwavering. His sharp gaze immediately landed on Sasuke, who stood by the window, his silhouette carved against the fading light.

"You're here late," Neji said, his voice even but weighted with meaning.

Sasuke didn't turn. He remained as he was, staring out into the distance, his hands tucked into his pockets. His silence stretched between them, heavy and unreadable. He visited whenever he could. Some days, he stayed for hours, sitting by her bedside, his presence a quiet vigil. Other times, he stood silently in the corner, his sharp gaze scanning her as if willing her to wake up. But there were also days when duty called him away, and those were the ones that left him the most restless.

Neji moved to stand beside him, following his gaze to the darkening sky. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then, in a voice quieter than usual, he said, "I spoke to her before it happened."

That caught his attention. His head turned slightly, just enough to show he was listening.

"She was… different." Neji's fingers curled at his sides, his usual composure cracking just enough to reveal something deeper. "Not just a subtle change. It was obvious. She moved differently, spoke differently, like a stranger wearing her skin."

Sasuke's expression didn't change, but the way his shoulders tensed was almost imperceptible.

Neji hesitated, then continued. "There are stories in my clan. Old stories, never spoken outside these walls. Legends of souls that don't belong to this world. Some say they come from elsewhere, borrowing bodies that aren't truly their own… but they never stay."

A slow, deliberate breath left Sasuke's lips. His eyes flickered toward Hinata's unmoving form, bathed in the cold glow of the moonlight. "You're saying she wasn't herself," he finally spoke, voice flat but laced with something unspoken.

"I'm saying," Neji corrected carefully, "that if those stories hold any truth… then the Hinata we knew may not have been entirely her."

The words settled between them like a quiet storm.

For the first time, Sasuke turned fully, his dark eyes locking onto Neji's with quiet intensity. "And now?"

Neji exhaled sharply, frustration flickering in his usually composed features. "I don't know. No one does. If it's true, then there's no telling what happens next. Whether she comes back as she was… or at all."

Sasuke's jaw tightened. His gaze returned to Hinata, studying her face as if searching for something, some remnant of the person he had been chasing in his thoughts.

Neji's voice softened. "Even when she was different… she was still her. She still fought for what mattered."

He didn't respond. He moved to sit beside her bed. His expression remained impassive, but the way his hand hovered near hers, barely brushing the fabric of the sheets, betrayed something else.

As the night deepened, and the silence pressed in around them, he finally murmured, so low that it was barely audible. "You'd better come back," his eyes lingered on her face, "because this place isn't the same without you."

The words weren't a plea. They weren't a demand.

But they carried the weight of something dangerously close to both.

The weeks turned into months, and the tension within the Hyuuga compound grew unbearable. Despite their best efforts, no answers surfaced about Hinata's condition. Scrolls were unrolled, old legends revisited, and healers consulted, but nothing provided clarity.

Hanabi paced the corridors with restless energy. She found herself drawn to her sister's personal study, a small, meticulously organized room filled with scrolls and journals. It was a place her sister had always retreated to when she needed peace, a sanctuary from the pressures of their clan.

She hesitated at the door, her chest tightening. She hadn't stepped inside since Hinata had collapsed. Taking a deep breath, she slid the door open and stepped in.

The room smelled faintly of lavender, a scent that reminded her painfully of her sister. She moved to the low desk at the center of the room, her fingers brushing over the neatly stacked papers. That was when she saw it; a leather-bound journal tucked beneath a stack of scrolls. Her breath hitched as she pulled it out, her hands trembling. The cover bore Hinata's elegant handwriting.

Hanabi settled into a chair, making herself comfortable as she carefully opened the journal. Her eyes scanned the pages, her lips curling into a small smile at the first few entries. They were ordinary, Hinata's thoughts about her training, musings about the clan, and quiet admiration for Naruto. But as she read further, the tone changed.

"The wedding invitation arrived today. I stared at it for hours before opening it. Naruto-kun and Sakura, together. I smiled when I saw their names, but inside, I felt like I was breaking apart."

"Hanabi asked me why I didn't dance. She teased me for sitting alone at the wedding reception, but I couldn't bring myself to join in. Watching Naruto-kun and Sakura was more than I could bear."

"The dreams won't stop. Every night, I see him smiling at me, holding out his hand like he did in the Chunin Exams. And then I wake up, and the emptiness sets in all over again."

"Today, I said goodbye. I went to the training field and stood where we used to meet. I whispered it into the wind: Goodbye, Naruto-kun. I don't think I'll ever stop loving him, but I need to let go. For my own sake."

Her chest clenched. She turned the pages faster, her breathing shallow, desperate to find something else; something lighter, something hopeful. But the ink bled pain, and she couldn't stop reading.

She flipped to the next page and found a folded piece of paper. The handwriting on the front made her stomach drop.

To Naruto.

Her hands shook as she unfolded it.

*Naruto-kun,

I don't know if you'll ever read this, but if you do… I'm sorry. I've tried so hard to be strong, to be worthy of your notice, but I've failed. I thought love could be enough, but love without hope is unbearable. You were my dream, my light, but now I see that light belongs to someone else. Please, be happy. Even if I can't be.

Hinata*

Her vision blurred.

"No…" she whispered, her voice barely making a sound.

Tears splashed onto the old pages as she clutched the journal against her chest. How long? How long had she been suffering alone?

She thought back to that night, to the wedding, to the way her sister had sat so still, hands folded in her lap, a serene expression masking the storm inside. She had laughed that night, teasing Hinata, urging her to dance, thinking she was just being her usual shy self. She had seen it. Had seen the way her smile never quite reached her eyes.

She had seen it. But chose to ignore it. And now… now her sister had collapsed out of nowhere. Had it been too much? Had she never really moved on? Had she spent all these years forcing herself forward, only to finally break under the weight of it?

The thought sent a deep, gut-wrenching pain through her.

But then—hadn't she chosen Sasuke? Hadn't she built a new life? Hadn't she laughed again, loved again? Had she been wrong? Had she missed something?

The panic rose in her throat.

Because if Hinata had still been carrying this pain, if it had never left her, then— Then who was the person they had been living with all this time?

Her hands curled around the journal so tightly her knuckles turned white. Something wasn't adding up. Something was wrong.

Her chest ached as she whispered, voice trembling, "Nee-san… what happened to you?"

But the empty room had no answers.

And the sister she had always known—

Might have been gone long before today.

Later that evening, Hanabi brought the journal and letter to her father and Neji.

Hiashi read the letter silently, his face betraying no emotion. But when he placed it down, his hands lingered on the paper, trembling ever so slightly.

"She must have known," he said quietly, his voice strained. "She wasn't planning to come back."

Hanabi wiped her eyes, her voice shaking. "But she did come back—or at least, we thought she did. What if… what if the Hinata we've been with these past three years wasn't really her?"

Neji's jaw tightened as he glanced between the letter and the journal. "That might have been the case."

Hiashi looked at him sharply. "What do you mean?"

Neji hesitated, his pale eyes flicking to the floor. "Before she lost consciousness, I confronted her. I asked her directly if she was the real Hinata."

Hiashi's eyes narrowed. "And what did she say?"

"There wasn't a real confirmation," Neji admitted, his voice steady but heavy with meaning. "She never said it outright…We were supposed to talk when she was ready. But that never happened... She was different. The way she carried herself, the way she spoke—it was like she was someone else entirely. I didn't understand it then, but now…" He gestured to the journal. "If this is truly the last letter of the real Hinata, then the person who woke up after the coma wasn't really her."

Hiashi's stoic mask cracked ever so slightly as he spoke. "We didn't know," he said quietly. "We didn't know we had already lost her."

A heavy silence fell over the room as the weight of his words sank in. Neji bowed his head, his fists clenched at his sides. Hanabi's tears began to fall again, this time for the real Hinata—the sister they had lost so long ago without even realizing it. "She was so strong," she whispered. "She always put us first, always carried so much on her own. And we never… we never got to say goodbye."

"We failed her. In our pride, in our blindness, we didn't see what she was carrying until it was too late." Hiashi's voice softened, heavy with sorrow.

Neji stepped forward, his voice resolute. "She deserved better. But we can still honor her memory, by fighting for the one who came back to us, even if she isn't the same."

Hanabi's tears flowed her cheeks. "I loved her," she said, her voice trembling. "Even if she wasn't the real one, she was still my sister. She protected me. She cared about us. She was Hinata in her own way."

Hiashi's stoic mask cracked ever so slightly as he placed a hand on Hanabi's shoulder. "I know," he said softly. "She may not have been the Hinata we lost, but she became part of this family. And now we are losing her too."

For a long moment, none of them spoke, the weight of their shared grief filling the room.

Finally, Hiashi straightened, his gaze hardening with resolve. "We will not lose her. Not without a fight."

Neji nodded firmly. "Agreed. If there is a way to bring her back, we will find it."

Hanabi wiped her tears, determination replacing her sorrow. "She's still my sister, no matter what. We'll do whatever it takes to bring her home."

Hiashi looked to Neji. "Begin searching the archives again. Expand the scope. I want every legend, every whisper of knowledge about the crossing of realms. We will find something."

Neji bowed. "Understood."

Hiashi's voice softened as he looked at his youngest daughter. "And Hanabi… you must stay strong. For both of your sisters."

She nodded, her fierce spirit reigniting. "I will."

Tsunade's office was dimly lit, the scent of ink and parchment filled the air, mingling with the faint bitterness of sake from a half-empty bottle on her desk. Across from her, Sasuke stood rigid, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. But his silence was heavy, charged.

Tsunade exhaled, rubbing her temples before sliding a single sheet of paper across the desk toward him. "The elders have made a decision," she said, her voice laced with irritation, as if she herself couldn't believe what she was about to say. "They want you to break off your engagement to Hinata."

Sasuke didn't move. He didn't even blink.

She tapped the paper. "They gave me this. Potential matches. Political alliances, noble bloodlines, women they think would be 'more suitable.'" She practically spat the last words out, disgust clear in her tone.

He finally lowered his gaze, glancing at the list. He didn't reach for it. Didn't read the names. Instead, his hands curled into tight fists at his sides.

Tsunade sighed. "Look, I fought them on this, but their argument—" she hesitated, choosing her words carefully, "—isn't entirely without reason. Hinata has been unconscious for months. No progress. No sign of waking up."

Sasuke's fingers twitched.

"They say you're wasting time, that—" The sound of wood cracking split the air. Her eyes flicked down. His knuckles were pressed against her desk, a splintered dent beneath them.

"You're really asking me this?" His voice was low, almost calm, but the kind of calm that precedes a storm.

She leaned back in her chair, watching him carefully. "I'm not asking you anything. I'm telling you what the elders want."

"They don't get to decide," he said flatly.

"They think they do."

Sasuke let out a sharp breath, nostrils flaring. "If she were awake, they wouldn't dare say this."

"But she's not." her voice was softer now. "And they're afraid she never will be."

He turned away abruptly, his movements sharp and tense as he strode toward the door. His rage simmered just beneath the surface, barely contained.

"Sasuke."

He stopped but didn't turn back.

Tsunade leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk. "What if she doesn't wake up?"

His jaw clenched. The silence stretched between them.

"She will," he said finally, his voice edged with steel. And then, without another word, he left.

The air outside was crisp, the chill of the evening settling into the village. Sasuke moved through the streets, his steps silent, purposeful. The list of names the Hokage had shown him burned in his mind, an insult he couldn't shake.

Potential brides. The elders had crossed a line.

His fists clenched at his sides as he walked, his Sharingan itching to activate from sheer rage. They wanted him to abandon her, to act as if she was already gone. As if she was nothing more than a political inconvenience.

His teeth ground together. Hinata had never been an inconvenience to him.

By the time he reached the Hyuuga compound, his blood was still simmering, but his expression was blank, a mask of indifference he had perfected over years of necessity. The guards patrolling the estate never saw him; he had no patience for formalities. With a swift leap, he landed on the outer wall, then onto the roof, moving through the shadows with practiced ease.

Her window was closed but not locked. It never was.

He slid it open soundlessly and stepped inside.

The room was dim, the lantern on the bedside table casting a soft glow across the space. The scent of lavender lingered in the air, faint and familiar. She lay motionless beneath the covers, her long hair spread over the pillow, her breathing steady but shallow.

Sasuke stood over her for a long moment, his hands curling and uncurling at his sides. She looked… fragile. Too still. His stomach twisted. He had never known her to be fragile. Not his Hinata.

Slowly, he sat on the bed beside her, the mattress dipping under his weight. His hands hovered over her for a moment before he exhaled, shaking off the last remnants of his frustration. Carefully, he reached for her arm, his fingers pressing against her skin. Warm, but unmoving.

He started with her hands, his thumbs pressing gently into her palms, rubbing slow, methodical circles into her fingers before working his way up her arm. He had been told once that people in comas needed their muscles stretched, their circulation maintained. He wasn't a medic, but he could do this. It was the least he could do.

He remained silent as he worked, his fingers pressing into her limbs with slow, deliberate care. His movements were precise—muscle by muscle, joint by joint—ensuring that her body didn't succumb to the stillness forced upon her. It was a ritual he had taken upon himself, something he could do for her when everything else felt out of his control.

The elders' audacity still burned in the back of his mind, the weight of their words pressing against his skull. A list. A goddamn list. As if she was replaceable. As if she hadn't already fought harder than any of them to be where she was now.

He swallowed down the anger threatening to resurface and focused on her instead. His fingers traced the shape of her wrist, feeling the slow, steady pulse beneath the skin. Proof that she was still here. Proof that she hadn't left him.

Sasuke exhaled sharply through his nose.

That night, he stayed longer than usual, sitting by her bedside as the moonlight spilled through the window.

"I know you're still in there," he said softly, his voice breaking the stillness. "And we'll find a way to bring you back." He reached out, his hand hovering over hers before finally letting it rest against her palm. Her skin was warm, a faint reminder of the life that still lingered within her.

He allowed himself a moment of vulnerability. "You said once that I don't let people in," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "You were wrong. I let you in." His grip tightened slightly, his resolve hardening. "You're not leaving me, Hinata. Not like this."

The only response was the quiet rise and fall of her chest, the steady rhythm of her breathing against the silence of the room. The world outside moved on. Somewhere beyond the compound walls, life continued as if nothing had changed. But for him, time had stopped the moment she fell into this unyielding slumber.

His thumb brushed over her knuckles absentmindedly. How many nights had he done this? How many times had he sat here, willing her to wake up, only to be met with the same unbearable stillness?

Too many.

Sasuke let out a slow, measured breath and finally stood. He stretched his fingers briefly before reaching for her again. With careful movements, he shifted her onto her side, continuing the slow, deliberate motions to keep her muscles from stiffening. He worked in silence, fingers pressing firmly yet gently as he began working along her spine. It was a task he had memorized, one he had taken upon himself after watching the Hyuuga attendants perform it for weeks.

Because if there was something—anything—he could do for her, he would.

His gaze flickered to her face, tracing the delicate features that had become so familiar. Even now, in this unnatural stillness, she looked peaceful, like she could wake at any moment, like she might turn her head toward him and give him that small, knowing smile she always did when she saw through his carefully constructed walls.

But she didn't. Sasuke clenched his jaw and exhaled sharply through his nose. He should go. But the thought of leaving her alone in this room, surrounded by silence, made something tighten in his chest. So instead, he sat back down, elbows resting on his knees, eyes never leaving her face.

They had asked him to walk away. To move on. To forget. As if she was a duty to be cast aside. As if she wasn't his.

He scoffed quietly, shaking his head.

"Tch. Idiots."

They didn't know anything.

He wasn't going anywhere.

His fingers brushed against hers again, an unspoken promise lingering in the touch.

They could send him a thousand lists. They could talk of duty and practicality all they wanted.

None of it mattered.

Because no one, not the elders, not the village, not even fate itself was going to take her away from him.

The Hyuuga compound buzzed with quiet determination. Scrolls and ancient texts covered every surface, their fragile pages filled with stories of celestial events, spiritual crossings, and legends of souls trapped between worlds.

Hiashi led the search with unrelenting resolve. Though he rarely spoke of it, his guilt over the real Hinata's likely fate weighed heavily on him. He had always pushed her to be stronger, to shoulder the burdens of the clan, and yet, in the end, he had failed to protect her. Now, he clung to the hope that they could save the other Hinata, the one who had filled their lives with strength, warmth, and love over the past three years.

Hanabi worked tirelessly beside her father, her sharp eyes scanning the faded ink of ancient scrolls. She refused to cry anymore, channeling her pain into action.

Meanwhile, Neji was in the deepest part of the Hyuuga archives, poring over texts that hadn't been opened in decades. It was there, amidst crumbling parchment and dusty tomes, that he found something, a scroll tucked into a corner, its edges worn and fragile.

The title read: "The Path of the Moonlit Gate."

That evening, he presented the scroll to Hiashi, Hanabi, and Sasuke.

"This scroll speaks of a celestial phenomenon," he began, carefully unrolling the aged parchment. "It's called the Moonlit Gate, a rare event where the alignment of the moon and stars is said to open a pathway between worlds."

Sasuke's eyes narrowed, his voice low. "When does this event occur?"

He pointed to a section of the faded text. "It happens once every few decades, but the exact timing depends on specific lunar cycles. Based on this, the next alignment is less than two months away."

Hanabi leaned forward, her voice hopeful but trembling. "Do you think it could bring her back?"

He hesitated, his pale eyes focused on the scroll. "The details are unclear. The Moonlit Gate is described as a bridge between realms, but the mechanics are left to interpretation. However, one passage stands out." He read aloud, his voice steady: "To call the wandering soul home, an object of deep meaning, a tether to the heart of the one lost must be offered under the celestial light of the Gate. This offering must carry a love so strong it bridges worlds."

Neji continued, his tone measured. "If the other Hinata truly belongs to another world, this might be our only chance to bring her back."

Hiashi's voice was firm as he addressed the group. "Then we will begin preparations immediately. This is our only opportunity, and we cannot afford any mistakes. Leave nothing to chance."

The room fell silent as the gravity of their mission settled over them. Each of them carried their own hopes, doubts, and fears, but one thing was certain: they would do whatever it took to bring Hinata home.

The next few weeks were a flurry of activity. Within the Hyuuga compound, Hinata's family—Hiashi, Hanabi, and Neji—worked tirelessly to prepare for the Moonlit Gate. They gathered rare materials, consulted with scholars and spiritual advisors, and meticulously refined every detail of the ritual.

Hanabi took charge of coordinating the ritual, her fierce energy keeping everyone on track. Despite her young age, her leadership shone through, earning the respect of even the most senior members of the clan.

Sasuke joined their efforts, his presence both a comfort and a driving force. He spent hours buried in ancient texts, meticulously combing through every passage, every obscure reference. Alongside Neji, he scrutinized the scroll, cross-referencing it with other sources, piecing together fragments of lost knowledge. His determination never wavered—his mind was set on one goal: bringing her back.

Naruto stepped into Sasuke's residence, again uninvited. The room was a mess. Scrolls were piled high on the floor and stacked haphazardly on the table. Ink stains marked the wooden surface, and several unfurled scrolls lay open, their cryptic contents scattered across the space. In the center of it all sat Sasuke, hunched over, his brows furrowed in concentration as his fingers traced over the aged parchment in front of him.

Naruto hesitated for a moment before stepping closer. "Oi, Sasuke… you good?"

No response.

That wasn't surprising. Sasuke had always been the quiet type, but this silence felt heavier, almost suffocating. Lately, he had become even more withdrawn, constantly buried in scrolls, his presence in the village becoming more of a shadow than a reality.

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his head as he observed his friend. "You've been cooped up in here for days, y'know. When's the last time you ate?"

Still, nothing. Sasuke didn't even glance at him. It was as if he hadn't heard him at all.

His jaw tightened. "How's Hinata?" he asked, his voice softer this time.

Sasuke didn't react, his gaze never lifting from the scroll in his hands.

Frustration simmered within him, but he held it back. Instead, he tried again. "Look, I don't know what you're trying to do, but if there's anything I can help with—"

Without warning, Sasuke grabbed a scroll from the table and tossed it at him. He caught it with ease, blinking in confusion.

"If you really want to help," Sasuke finally spoke, his voice low and unwavering, "then help me gather the things on that list."

Naruto frowned and unraveled the scroll. His eyes skimmed the contents, and his confusion deepened. The list was bizarre—various rare herbs, obscure relics, and items he had never even heard of. He looked up, studying his friend's expression. There was no trace of humor or hesitation. Whatever this was, he was serious.

"When do you need them by?" he asked simply.

Sasuke finally met his gaze, his eyes dark with determination. "As soon as possible."

He nodded, gripping the scroll tightly. Whatever Sasuke was planning, it was important. And if it involved Hinata, then he would do whatever it took to help. Without another word, he turned and left, already making a mental plan to track down the strange items on the list.

The day they had been preparing for had finally arrived.

The Hyuuga compound was shrouded in tense anticipation. The moon hung heavy in the night sky, its pale glow illuminating the courtyards as they worked diligently to prepare for the ritual. Scrolls, incense, and carefully selected objects were arranged in a sacred circle etched into the ground, each line of the seal glowing faintly with chakra.

Hiashi stood at the center of the activity, directing the preparations with calm authority. Neji double-checked the scroll containing the instructions, his sharp eyes scanning every detail to ensure nothing was overlooked.

Hanabi, her usual fiery demeanor subdued by the weight of the moment, moved quickly between tasks. Despite her composed exterior, her hands trembled slightly as she laid out offerings meant to guide her sister's soul back to them.

Sasuke was nearby, his presence a quiet but steady force. He watched every movement with an intense focus, his jaw tight and his fists clenched at his sides.

"This has to work," Hanabi muttered under her breath, adjusting a small statue of a bird—a symbol of freedom and guidance—near the edge of the circle.

As the preparations neared completion, the young Hyuuga approached them, her expression uncertain but determined. "The scroll says we need an object with deep meaning to her," she said, holding the ancient parchment with trembling hands.

Hiashi nodded. "Something that carries emotional weight. A tether to her heart."

Hanabi hesitated, then spoke carefully. "I think we should use the picture."

Neji frowned. "What picture?"

Hanabi glanced toward her sister's room, her voice soft. "The picture she kept in her drawer. Of Sasuke."

Sasuke's head snapped up at the mention of his name. "You think a picture of me is going to bring her back?" he asked sharply, his tone laced with skepticism.

"It's not just a picture," she insisted, stepping closer. "She kept it hidden, but I knew about it. She looked at it when she thought no one was watching. It meant something to her."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "That's ridiculous. A picture isn't going to change anything."

Hiashi placed a hand on Hanabi's shoulder, his expression thoughtful. "Perhaps it isn't so ridiculous," he said quietly. "If it held meaning for her, it could serve as the anchor the ritual requires."

Neji nodded slowly. "The scroll speaks of a tether to the heart. If this picture was important to her, it might be exactly what we need."

Sasuke's lips pressed into a thin line, his dark eyes flicking to the circle etched into the ground. He didn't believe in sentimentality, but he wasn't about to stand in the way if it could help.

"Fine," he said finally, his voice clipped. "Do whatever you need to."

Hanabi wasted no time. She retrieved the small, carefully preserved photograph from Hinata's drawer and placed it gently in the center of the circle. It depicted Sasuke as he had been from years ago—his sharp gaze filled with quiet intensity, his expression calm but unreadable.

"It's perfect," she murmured, stepping back to let the others take their positions.

The ritual began as the moon reached its peak, its silvery light bathing the compound in an ethereal glow. Hiashi led the chant, his voice steady and commanding as he recited the ancient words from the scroll. Neji and Hanabi joined in, their chakra flowing into the seal with practiced precision.

Sasuke stood just outside the circle, his dark eyes fixed on the photograph. He didn't speak, but his presence radiated an unspoken determination.

The air grew heavy with energy as the circle began to glow, the lines of the seal pulsing with a faint, rhythmic light. The picture at the center shimmered, its edges flickering as if caught between worlds.

"Focus," Hiashi commanded, his voice cutting through the rising hum of power.

Hanabi clenched her fists, her voice trembling slightly as she poured every ounce of her chakra into the ritual. "Onee-san… please come back."

The light intensified, growing so bright that it forced them to shield their eyes. The picture began to lift from the ground, hovering in the air as if caught in an invisible current. Sasuke's breath caught as the image of his younger self seemed to come alive, the intensity in the photograph's gaze mirroring his own. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, the picture vanished.

The seal dimmed, the light fading until the circle was nothing more than a faint outline in the dirt. The air grew still once more, the only sound the faint rustle of leaves in the night breeze.

"It's gone," Hanabi whispered, her voice barely audible.

Hiashi stepped forward, his brow furrowing. "The ritual completed successfully. It must have gone to her."

Sasuke stared at the empty space where the picture had been, his hands clenching at his sides. "Now what?"

"Now," Neji said, his voice steady, "we wait."

In a distant world, the atmosphere rippled, a barely perceptible distortion in the fabric of reality. The space directly in the center of the wall flickered, shimmering like heat waves rising off asphalt.

Then, without warning, a picture materialized out of thin air, hovering for a moment before gently settling onto the wall.

The frame was plain but sturdy, and the photograph within was clear and vivid—a young Sasuke Uchiha, his piercing gaze filled with quiet intensity, stared out from the image.