Chapter 13: Wilted Flower
Kimiko's crimson eyes narrowed, her focus razor-sharp as she faced Hinata across the training ground. Her opponent's pale, opalescent eyes glimmered with quiet intensity, veins bulging around them in stark relief.
So this is the Byakugan… Kimiko mused, tightening her grip on the hilt of her tanto.
Hinata stood poised, one palm extended defensively while her body turned to the side in a textbook stance of the Gentle Fist style. Her every movement radiated control, a calm storm brewing beneath her unassuming demeanor.
"Here I go," murmured Hinata, her voice soft but resolute.
Before the words even settled in the air, Hinata darted forward, a blur of grace and precision. Kimiko's sharp eyes tracked the subtle shifts in her posture, her focus drawn to Hinata's footwork. At the last possible moment, Kimiko stepped aside, letting the Hyūga slip past her in a fluid evasion.
The instant Hinata passed, Kimiko's tanto flashed, the blade singing as she swung it down toward Hinata's neck in a decisive arc.
Hinata pivoted sharply, her Byakugan catching the blade's movement with uncanny clarity. Rather than parry or evade in full, she thrust her right finger forward, aiming for Kimiko's sternum with pinpoint accuracy.
Kimiko's eyes widened as realization hit her like a physical blow—Hinata wasn't trying to block her attack; she was countering it outright.
Smart. Too smart.
Kimiko aborted her swing mid-motion, her chakra surging through her body as she flickered away with a well-timed Body Flicker Technique, landing a safe distance away. She glanced at Hinata, who had already reset her stance, calm and unreadable as ever.
Kimiko's fingers dipped into the pouch at her hip, retrieving four gleaming senbon needles. With a flick of her wrist, she hurled them toward Hinata in a low arc, their glinting paths cutting through the air like threads of light. Her aim was precise, targeting the small, exposed joint of Hinata's elbow.
To Kimiko's frustration, Hinata didn't even glance at the incoming projectiles. Her Byakugan caught the attack effortlessly, and with a flurry of rapid palm strikes, she deflected the senbon midair, each needle clinking harmlessly to the ground.
Gentle Fist and Byakugan… Kimiko thought, sighing. Annoying.
Hinata's form was solid—precise and deliberate, as expected from a Hyūga trained in the Gentle Fist. Against most opponents, it would have been more than enough to dominate. But Kimiko knew better. Their batch wouldn't be typical genin; they were already outliers, and Hinata most of all. Especially when considering who her opponent would be during the Chuunin Exams' preliminaries…
Kimiko shook the thought away, focusing on the here and now. She tightened her grip on her tanto, the blade catching the light as she angled it diagonally in front of her. Her crimson eyes narrowed, tracing every subtle movement Hinata made. Kimiko shifted her right foot back, bending her knee, and then, in a burst of motion, shot forward like a streak of lightning. Afterimages of her path shimmered behind her as she closed the distance in a heartbeat.
Reappearing just inches from Hinata, Kimiko's tanto slashed in a perfect lateral arc.
"Secret Sword: Moonlight!" she called, her voice cutting through the air as sharply as her blade.
Hinata's Byakugan widened in alarm. The sheer speed was overwhelming, and her reaction, while quick, was just barely enough. She stumbled backward, the tip of the tanto grazing her neck, the faint kiss of steel brushing past her skin.
But Kimiko wasn't done. Her opponent was still within striking range. She leapt upward in a fluid motion, her body spinning midair to build momentum for a punishing back kick. The sole of her foot connected with Hinata's stomach with a resounding thud, sending her staggering back and forcing a gasp of spit to spray across the training ground.
Kimiko landed gracefully, ready to capitalize on the opening and finish with another strike. Her tanto gleamed as it rose for the decisive blow.
But to her surprise, Hinata didn't retreat. Instead, she stood her ground and countered, her hand snapping forward in an open palm strike aimed at Kimiko's chest.
Kimiko twisted, pivoting out of the way with the same ease that defined her movements. However, the second strike came before she could fully recover—Hinata's other hand aimed lower, her palm striking Kimiko's thigh.
The effect was immediate. A searing numbness spread through her leg like wildfire, locking the muscles in place as if they'd been turned to stone. The tenketsu in her thigh had been sealed, rendering her unable to move it.
Her balance faltered, and before she could retreat or retaliate, Hinata launched a quick pair of palm strikes to her stomach. Each blow was precise, the chakra-laden impacts driving the air from Kimiko's lungs. She staggered backward, spluttering as pain radiated through her abdomen.
But Kimiko didn't pivot away. Instead, her free hand wove a series of hand seals, each movement precise and fluid, hidden from Hinata's sharp gaze. As Hinata surged forward to strike again, Kimiko's lips curled into a faint smile. She was ready.
"Water Style: Thousand Flying Water Needles!" she called.
Hinata's Byakugan widened in alarm, and she instinctively dashed backward, scanning the area for a nearby water source to anticipate the attack. But her assumption was her mistake.
Kimiko opened her mouth, and from within, a barrage of glowing blue senbon burst forth, each one meticulously formed from water kneaded with her chakra. They screamed through the air in a deadly, shimmering cascade.
Hinata reacted immediately, leaping away from the onslaught. The senbon struck the ground with a series of sharp impacts, each detonation unleashing a pressurized burst of water that gouged deep craters into the terrain. The explosive power of the attack soaked the area, leaving the battlefield drenched in ankle-deep water.
Kimiko didn't relent. Reaching into her pouch, she drew four physical senbon, hurling them with precision at Hinata's joints. As before, Hinata's palms shot out, striking the needles midair with uncanny accuracy, sending them clattering harmlessly to the ground.
But Kimiko's lips twitched with satisfaction. That was the distraction.
The water pooling around Hinata's feet shimmered faintly as Kimiko completed a one-handed seal, her chakra flowing into the saturated ground.
"Water Style: Water Clone Jutsu!"
The puddles stirred, and from the liquid rose five identical Kimiko clones, their reflections rippling unnervingly in the water as they surrounded Hinata. The Hyūga heiress spun on her heel, her eyes flicking from one clone to the next, veins around her temples pulsing as her Byakugan started scanning these water-formed clones for their vulnerabilities.
Without hesitation, Hinata struck. Her palms lashed out in a flurry of precise blows, dispelling the clones one by one into cascading puddles. But as she moved toward the final clone, her strikes flowing seamlessly, she was too late to realize its hands had already finished weaving signs.
The clone splayed its arms, its fingers glowing with chakra. Hinata's hand moved to strike, but the clone's voice rang out.
"Water Style: Water Prison Jutsu!"
An orb of crystal-clear water erupted from the clone's fingertips, instantly enveloping Hinata. The shimmering sphere trapped her mid-movement, her palms frozen just shy of breaking the clone's chest. The watery prison shimmered in the moonlight, completely immobilizing the Hyūga.
Kimiko stood at her original spot, her tanto lowered, watching her opponent struggle futilely within the water prison. A satisfied smirk crept onto her lips as she exhaled slowly, calming her racing heart.
"Got you," Kimiko murmured, a small smirk tugging at her lips. In her free hand, three senbon protruded from the gaps between her knuckles, each one wreathed in a vibrant blue aura as her chakra flowed through them. She leveled the glowing needles at Hinata, who remained trapped in the heavy embrace of the water prison.
Hinata's pale eyes flicked to Kimiko, her expression a mixture of determination and resignation. Slowly, she raised her hands, forming the seal of surrender beneath the watery sphere.
Kimiko smiled gently and nodded in acknowledgment. With a deft hand seal, she whispered, "Release."
The water orb collapsed into a massive puddle, splashing over the already drenched training grounds and leaving Hinata stumbling to regain her footing. Kimiko, despite the slight limp in her step from earlier strikes, moved toward her friend, offering her hand with a soft smile.
"You're getting even better, Hinata-chan." Kimiko said as she helped Hinata up, her voice low but warm.
The two made their way toward the benches, where neatly folded towels awaited them. The Hyūga training grounds were a soggy mess, marked with gouges and scattered puddles, but Kimiko barely spared it a glance. The battle had been worth it—a testament to both their growth.
"It's been almost a month since we got back from the Land of Waves," Kimiko remarked as she picked up a towel and handed it to Hinata, before grabbing one for herself. "I've been using all this time to train. But you've been improving too." She was really thankful she learned that Shadow Clone learning trick, given how it allowed her to learn three water style jutsus from Haku. Granted, it was easier because she was learning one that's within her nature.
Hinata murmured her thanks, her cheeks tinged pink as she dabbed the towel across her soaked hair.
"You need to hesitate less," Kimiko continued, her tone thoughtful. "Your fundamentals are great, but you have to trust yourself enough to apply them."
"You're sounding more like Kurenai-senpai every day," Hinata replied in her soft, shy voice, a faint smile breaking through her usual nervous demeanor.
"I'll take that as a compliment," Kimiko remarked with a small giggle.
Truth be told, the past month had been dreary. The Hokage had insisted they focus on lower-level missions—dog walking, gardening, and other mundane tasks clearly meant to ease them back into normalcy after their harrowing experience in the Land of Waves. At first, the change of pace had been a refreshing reprieve from life-and-death stakes, but as the monotony of these missions piled up, it became painfully clear that Kimiko, like Naruto and Sasuke, craved the thrill and purpose of more meaningful assignments.
To stave off the dullness, Kimiko threw herself into training with as much dedication as possible. If Hinata was free, she trained with her. Otherwise, she worked with her teammates or pushed herself in solo sessions. The effort was grueling but rewarding—keeping her sharp and reminding her of her potential.
"Are Naruto-kun and Sasuke busy today?" Hinata asked softly, her pale eyes curious.
Kimiko nodded, noticing how Hinata didn't bother to use an honorific for Sasuke. The two had never gotten along well, barely tolerating each other's presence at best, but Kimiko decided not to tease her about it. There was no need to stir that pot.
"They are. Sasuke's working on his own training, and so is Naruto." She smiled slightly, recalling how the two boys seemed to be in an unspoken competition, constantly trying to outdo each other. It was up to Kimiko to redirect their rivalry toward productive training rather than letting it devolve into petty bickering.
She remembered how, in the anime, teamwork had suffered after the Land of Waves. Naruto had been desperate to prove he wasn't reliant on Sasuke, and Sasuke had been equally determined to maintain his edge. Thankfully, with her foresight about what they were feeling, she could steer their competitive energy into something constructive—ensuring their "lead" against the other genin teams remained intact and their camaraderie didn't falter.
"Oh, that's nice. Kurenai-sensei's been taking us training until our next mission. We've cleared ten D-ranks and one C-rank," said Hinata with a hint of pride, her soft voice tinged with satisfaction.
Kimiko smiled warmly, recognizing the value in Hinata's progress. Her sister's team was certainly more prolific in their approach to missions compared to her own. Kurenai's method was clear: stack as many low-level missions as possible to ensure her team's basics were honed to perfection.
Kakashi, on the other hand, was far more laissez-faire. He rarely took the initiative to sign their team up for missions unless directly prompted, often relying on the village to assign them instead. Kimiko suspected it had to do with his background. Having spent much of his career in ANBU, where missions were strictly assigned and personal volunteering was discouraged, Kakashi likely saw no need to pursue a different approach now.
In contrast, Kurenai, a career ninja from the General Forces, had always operated differently. She actively volunteered for missions, working tirelessly to build her profile the traditional way. It became clear to Kimiko just how different the paths were for typical geniuses like Kakashi and her sister, who while undoubtedly talented were often overshadowed by generational geniuses.
"Oh, that reminds me. I still think we can work on—"
Kimiko stopped mid-sentence, the weight of a significant presence making her turn. Behind her stood Hiashi Hyuga, the head of Konoha's most powerful clan and Hinata's father. Even in casual attire, the man exuded an air of authority that made him impossible to ignore.
His chakra was unmistakable—like a vast, serene green field under an endless sky, yet dominated by two all-seeing white eyes that loomed overhead, watching with unwavering precision. Kimiko immediately bowed at the waist, her respect automatic and instinctual. Beside her, Hinata bowed as well, though not quite as deeply.
"Hiashi-sama," Kimiko said formally. "Thank you for allowing us the honor of using the Hyuga training grounds."
Hiashi remained silent for a long moment, his pale gaze resting heavily on Kimiko. The scrutiny felt like it pierced the back of her neck, and she resisted the urge to shift under his gaze. At last, he spoke, his voice measured and calm.
"It is nothing," he began, his tone carrying a subtle weight. "Young shinobi are expected to refine their skills. It is good to see that you and your sister are encouraging Hinata's growth, pushing her as you do."
Kimiko raised her head slowly, meeting Hiashi's gaze with quiet respect. "Hinata is an exceptional talent," she replied sincerely. "I consider myself fortunate that she chooses to train with me."
Hiashi regarded her for a moment longer, then inclined his head slightly. "You are too modest, Kimiko," he said, his words lightly chiding but without malice. "A young lady should learn to accept praise when it is due—especially considering your recent mission. Few shinobi, even seasoned ones, face challenges of that caliber and return."
Kimiko felt a flicker of surprise at the compliment, but she quickly composed herself. "Thank you, Hiashi-sama," she said, her voice steady. "It was a team effort. I couldn't have done it alone."
Hiashi's gaze lingered for a moment longer, and then he gave a slight nod before turning his attention to Hinata. "Hinata," he said, his tone hardening just a fraction. "Your dedication is evident. I expect you to continue on this path. You cannot fall to the same habits as before,"
"Yes, Otou-sama," Hinata murmured, bowing again, her voice quiet but resolute. Kimiko shifted her gaze away as Hiashi turned, his movements precise and deliberate, disappearing into one of the buildings in the compound.
"He's intense, isn't he?" Kimiko said, breaking the silence once Hiashi was out of sight.
Hinata nodded slightly, her voice barely above a whisper. "He expects the best from all of us, especially me… since I'm supposed to be the heiress."
Kimiko frowned, her scarlet eyes narrowing at Hinata's tone. She couldn't help but recall how Hiashi was portrayed in the early parts of the anime: a stern man shaped by tragedy—the loss of his beloved twin brother—that hardened him but never extinguished his deep love for his family. In fact, he eventually found himself the old, genial man he was before his brother's demise after a while.
"You are the heiress," Kimiko said firmly. "Don't sell yourself short. You have a lot to work on, sure, but who doesn't at our age? You've got the talent; you just need to match it with dedication. Look at Naruto, for example."
Kimiko paused, gauging Hinata's reaction. She felt a flicker of guilt—it was a bit manipulative to use the person Hinata admired most as an example, but if it could spark some confidence in her friend, it was worth it.
"You're too kind, Kimiko-chan," Hinata said, her pale cheeks flushing faintly. "But… I think they're looking to make Hanabi the next heir."
"Oh, really? Your younger sister," Kimiko mused, her tone thoughtful. "She's enrolled in the Academy, isn't she?"
Kimiko had nearly forgotten about Hanabi—Hiashi's second daughter and the family's chosen successor. From what Kimiko knew, Hanabi possessed the sharp focus and natural aptitude that the Hyuga clan admired. Hinata, by contrast, had more than enough talent but lacked the hardened resolve the clan expected of its leader. Still, Kimiko saw something else in Hinata: a different kind of strength, one not defined by ruthlessness or raw power but by her gentle, resilient heart. And Kimiko was determined to help her unlock that potential—earlier than it had emerged in the anime.
"If Neji-nii-san were the clan heir, it wouldn't be this complicated," Hinata whispered, her voice tinged with a mixture of longing and resignation.
Kimiko tilted her head slightly, studying her friend. Honestly, she understood. As talented as Hinata would prove to be, and as dedicated as Hanabi was, Neji was a once-in-a-generation genius. Mastering the secret techniques of the Hyuga Main Branch at his age was already impressive. But for a Side Branch member to do it through observation alone? That was the kind of achievement reserved for legends.
"Neji isn't part of the Main Branch, though," Kimiko said gently, watching Hinata's reaction. "So he can't inherit."
To her surprise, Hinata looked away, her pale eyes clouded with a quiet defiance. "I… don't think the circumstances of someone's birth should determine what they can or can't do, especially if they're the most obvious choice for something."
Kimiko felt a small smile tug at her lips. That was just like Hinata—gracious even in the face of an unjust system, harboring quiet ideals that went against the very traditions she was born into.
"Mm, I heard he's a genius," Kimiko said, shifting the topic slightly. "I honestly want to face him someday. Did I ever tell you? I offered him a spar once, back when your father invited us for your birthday. Never heard back from him, though."
"Oh," Hinata murmured, her tone softening as a small smile graced her lips. "He's great. The best. He's almost as good as Ko-san. He's really admirable."
Kimiko couldn't help but giggle at that. "Not even betting on your best friend? How sad."
Hinata's eyes widened, her face flushing a deep red. "S-Sorry! I didn't mean it like that!" she stammered.
Kimiko waved it off with a laugh. "I'm teasing. By the way, what time should we continue tomorrow? I still need to work on my kenjutsu. The Jyuuken's a real challenge to counter."
Hinata frowned slightly. "I can't train tomorrow, Kimiko-chan. I'm going on a mission with my team."
Kimiko's smile faltered for a moment before she nodded. "That's alright. Maybe some solo training would do me good. Or…" She tilted her head thoughtfully. "Maybe I'll finally finish that project I've been working on."
"Which project?" Hinata asked, her curiosity piqued.
"The Poison Pill project," Kimiko replied casually. She had been putting it off for a while now, mostly because of Zabuza and Kakashi's criticism of her insistence on poisons. But she was determined to see it through. If she wanted to keep up with Naruto and Sasuke—and not end up sidelined like Sakura during these early years—she needed every edge she could get.
Hinata frowned again, her brows knitting together. But instead of arguing, she simply looked away. "Good luck, Kimiko-chan. Just… don't risk yourself too much," she whispered.
Kimiko reached over, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry. I'll do my best to keep safe," she said with a small smile. "Oh, and Hinata-chan?"
"Hm?" Asked Hinata.
"...Can you unlock the Tenketsu you hit?"
The day passed quickly after their training, and the next morning, Kimiko woke early, her resolve firm. Today, she would finally complete her project—the Poison Pill. Her ultimate tool, designed to push her limits and serve as her answer to Sasuke's Sharingan and Naruto's Nine-Tails Chakra.
"Ohayo," Kimiko greeted her mother, Kaori, as she descended the stairs, her tone light but purposeful. "I'm going to work on my project today," she added with a small smile.
Kaori, seated in their serene garden with a cup of tea in hand, turned to regard her daughter. A faint frown tugged at her lips. "You can't finish it in your workshop here?"
Kimiko shook her head, her loose black hair swaying gently with the motion. "It's more complicated than that, Mother. I need specialized equipment—something I can't replicate at home."
Kaori's frown deepened, her concern plain in the furrow of her brows. After a moment of quiet, she nodded. "If you must. I'd hoped to ask you to help me at the teahouse today."
Kimiko blinked, momentarily caught off guard. She couldn't remember the last time she'd helped out there. How long had it been since she spent a quiet day with her mother, simply tending to customers?
"When I get back," Kimiko promised, her tone soft but sincere. "I'll help out, I swear."
A faint smile returned to Kaori's lips as she inclined her head. "Alright. Don't let me keep you, then."
Kaori's faint smile lingered as Kimiko stepped away, the quiet warmth of the garden trailing behind her. The thought of her mother's gentle concern tugged at her for a moment, but Kimiko pushed it aside. She needed to do it. She was determined to.
Her first stop was the Yamanaka Flower Shop, where the Indigo Bloom Flower she had ordered a month ago was finally ready for pickup.
As Kimiko entered the Yamanaka Flower Shop, the familiar bell chimed, and she was surprised to see not one, but two familiar kunoichi inside.
"Ohayo, Ino-chan, Sakura-chan," she greeted with a small smile. The two kunoichi, deep in conversation by the counter, turned toward her. Ino's face brightened immediately, and Sakura offered a shy wave.
"Kimiko! Finally took a break from training to hang out with us?" teased Ino, her tone light but playful. Kimiko noticed Sakura wore an abridged version of the Medic Corps uniform—her progress there was evident.
"I'm afraid not, Ino-chan," replied Kimiko with a soft smile. "I'm here to pick up the Blooming Indigo Flower I ordered."
Ino tsked, shaking her head with a dramatic sigh. "Of course, training and projects. Should've guessed! Alright, wait here; I'll grab it from the back," she said, disappearing into the storeroom.
As soon as Ino was out of sight, the air shifted. Sakura hesitated before speaking, her voice soft but determined. "Kimiko-chan… are you sure about this?"
Kimiko tilted her head slightly. "Sure about what?"
"The… toxin you're planning to mix," Sakura said, her discomfort apparent in the way she fiddled with the hem of her sleeve. "It's dangerous, Kimiko-chan. I don't think you should—"
Kimiko's expression darkened, her lips pulling into a slight frown. "What do you mean? I know I'm not as skilled in medical ninjutsu as you, but I've studied poisons for years. I can handle this."
Sakura shook her head, her frown deepening. "It's not about skill or knowledge. The toxins you're working with—they're incredibly volatile. Even if you stabilize the compounds with chakra, it requires—"
"Intense chakra control," Kimiko interrupted, her tone curt. "I know. Jonin-level, to be precise. And yes, I've done the research. It's possible."
"But it's not just about technique, Kimiko-chan," Sakura pressed, her voice almost pleading. "Even if you're skilled, the risks are so high. One mistake—"
"I can take care of myself, thank you." Kimiko's voice turned icy, her gaze flicking away from Sakura, whose shoulders slumped at the sharp response. In that moment, any lingering sympathy Kimiko had for her replacing Sakura evaporated. The hesitation, the meekness—it was no wonder she had been such a burden on her team.
Sakura looked like she wanted to reply, her hands clenching at her sides, but before she could speak, Ino returned with a glistening, indigo-hued flower resting in a protective case. The petals shimmered faintly, an otherworldly hue that seemed to pulse with danger.
"Here you go, Kimiko-chan," Ino said cheerfully. "There's enough hemotoxin here for about four doses, so make it count!"
Kimiko's expression softened as she took the case, smiling at Ino. "Thank you, Ino. I really appreciate it."
"Oh, wait!" Ino said, her curiosity piqued. "How do you plan on mixing it? You can't do that at home—something this potent needs industrial-grade equipment. Not to mention the insulation."
"I reserved the Poison Lab at Konoha Hospital," Kimiko replied smoothly, glancing at the clock on the wall. "Which reminds me—I only have five hours with it. I'd better get going!"
With that, she turned on her heel, entirely ignoring Sakura's lingering gaze. She gave Ino a polite nod and strode out of the shop.
Konoha Hospital looked just as pristine as Kimiko remembered from her early childhood visits. Despite its immaculate condition, she noted how the leadership had shifted over the years. Since Biwako Sarutobi's passing, no one seemed to stay on as head of the hospital for more than four years, a fact that gave the institution an air of impermanence despite its critical role in the village.
Stepping up to the receptionist's desk, Kimiko offered a polite smile to the diminutive woman in a crisp nurse uniform.
"Ohayo," Kimiko greeted. "I reserved the Poison Room from ten in the morning until three this afternoon?"
The nurse returned her smile, glancing briefly at the reservation log. "Ohayo. May I see your identification, please?"
Kimiko handed over her Ninja Identification, waiting as the woman inspected it. After checking her information against the logbook, the nurse nodded in approval and slid a clipboard with several sheets of paper across the counter.
"Yuhi, Kimiko. Everything is in order. I just need you to sign these compliance forms."
Kimiko took the clipboard, quickly scanning the text. The contracts were standard liability waivers, ensuring the hospital would not be held responsible for any accidents or injuries she might sustain during her experiment. She signed each page with swift, practiced strokes before handing the clipboard back to the nurse, who gave her a grateful nod.
"Thank you. Here's your ID," the nurse said, returning the card. "The Poison Lab is in the basement, Room Two."
Kimiko slipped her ID back into her pouch and made her way to the stairwell leading to the hospital's lower levels. The air grew cooler as she descended, the faint hum of chakra-powered ventilation systems echoing through the concrete stairwell. It made sense to place the Poison Lab in the basement; the isolation minimized exposure risks, and in the worst-case scenario, it was easier to contain or quarantine.
She reached the corridor marked with bold red lettering: Poison Research and Containment Unit. The reinforced glass-paneled door to Room Two stood at the end, adorned with biohazard symbols and intricate sealing formulas etched into its frame. Kimiko swiped her access key over the chakra-powered lock, and the door opened with a soft hiss.
The Poison Lab was a study in both practicality and safety, its design reflecting the high stakes of its purpose. The walls were reinforced steel, painted a sterile white that gleamed under the sharp fluorescence of overhead lights. Rows of sealed cabinets lined one wall, each labeled meticulously with names of volatile compounds, reagents, and neutralizing agents. A row of chemical fume hoods occupied the opposite side, their ventilation systems humming faintly.
Kimiko set her bag on one of the workbenches and began unpacking her supplies with a calm precision. The Indigo Bloom Flower she had retrieved earlier gleamed in its container, its vibrant blue petals radiating an almost hypnotic sheen. Next to it, she placed the vial of Blackroot Sap, its contents a viscous, midnight-black liquid, and the Tigerfish Barracuda extract, its crystalline, amber hue catching the light.
Taking a steadying breath, Kimiko surveyed the setup before her.
"Let's begin," she murmured, tying her hair back and reaching for her gloves.
The entire process had been long and grueling. More than once, Kimiko had burned her hands trying to synthesize the poison. But now, finally, it was here.
The Poison Pill.
Two marble-sized pills sat suspended in sterile containers, glowing faintly with a purplish hue. Next to it was the antidote she had to painstakingly synthesize as well. The clear liquid sloshed inside the thin corked tube, hovering between the two pills.
Despite the burns and near failures, she'd managed to create two perfect samples. It was tempting to keep going and complete the batch, but she knew better. She needed to test the formula first.
"Alright… here goes nothing," she muttered under her breath, her fingers forming the seals with practiced precision.
"Shadow Clone Jutsu."
With a puff of smoke, an identical version of herself appeared before her. Kimiko's clone met her gaze, nodding in silent understanding.
"Time to eat the pill," Kimiko said, her voice steady despite the nervous flutter in her chest. "Remember to knead your chakra while doing it. You need to familiarize our chakra with it."
This was it. Would the Shadow Clone work for this? If her theory held true, the clone could bypass the excruciating—and potentially deadly—step of poisoning herself to teach her chakra how to mimic the toxin. Would this make her Hanzo the Salamander come again?
The clone looked apprehensive, its lips pressing into a thin line before sighing. "Of course I get to do it," it muttered, its tone laced with resignation.
Reaching for the container, the clone gingerly plucked one of the pills between its thumb and index finger. Freed from its sterile confines, the pill's acrid stench hit Kimiko like a wave, sharp and burning. She scrunched her nose in disgust, instinctively taking a small step back.
"Ugh, see you on the flipside," the clone muttered, its words muffled by the pungent air as it popped the pill into its mouth and swallowed.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then it began.
The clone's throat convulsed, its pale, slender hands—identical to Kimiko's—grasping desperately at its neck. The first sign of the poison's potency appeared as dark purple veins, almost black, spread rapidly across its skin. Its crimson eyes bulged, blood trickling from their corners, while its body trembled violently. The choking sounds grew ragged and wet, punctuated by shallow gasps.
Kimiko's stomach twisted as she stumbled back, her wide eyes locked on the grotesque scene before her. She had braced herself for something unpleasant but wasn't prepared to witness her own likeness dying in such a gruesome, violent manner.
The clone collapsed to its knees, spasming one last time before it burst into a puff of smoke.
And then it hit her.
The flood of memories and sensations overwhelmed her, nearly knocking her off balance. Her mind reeled as she processed the clone's final moments—the unbearable burn of the toxin as it coursed through its body, searing its veins like liquid fire. She could feel the effects of the hemotoxin, thinning the blood until it hemorrhaged uncontrollably. The corrosive component clawed at the insides like acid, while the neurotoxin paralyzed every nerve, leaving behind nothing but raw, screaming agony.
But there was more. Beneath the pain and terror, there was power.
The clone had survived long enough to channel chakra, forcing it to absorb and replicate the poison's properties. Her body now understood the formula, the delicate balance of toxins needed to weaponize her chakra. The mix of hemotoxins, corrosives, and neurotoxins could now become part of her arsenal—a lethal, chakra-based poison that could kill with a single strike.
As the memories settled, Kimiko blinked, her breaths coming shallow and fast. She could feel her chakra responding, buzzing with a new, volatile energy. The question lingered in her mind: Would she be able to replicate the process?
Kimiko swallowed hard, closing her eyes to concentrate. Slowly, she opened her mouth, drawing on her chakra reserves as she tried to summon the poison.
Nothing happened.
Kimiko blinked once, then twice, her heart sinking as realization dawned.
"Fuck," she muttered, her voice trembling with frustration. She let out a long, shuddering breath, her mind racing. Her meta knowledge of the anime had failed her. Shadow Clone Training didn't work with poisons.
"Fuck. Fuck!" The words slipped out again, louder this time, her hands clenching into fists. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to think clearly, but all she could see were the haunting memories of her clone— her —dying in agony.
Her gaze fell to the remaining pill, its faint purple glow taunting her from the sterile container. Her chest tightened. She had one chance left… but was it worth it?
The image of the clone's convulsing, bloodied form flashed through her mind, making her stomach churn. Was she really willing to put herself through that kind of suffering, knowing it could very well kill her?
Her thoughts turned to her teammates. Sasuke, driven to betrayal in his pursuit of power. Naruto, relentless and unyielding, training tirelessly to grow stronger. And wasn't she part of Team 7? Didn't she owe it to them to keep up, to be strong enough to stand beside them and protect them?
She did.
If they could endure their own paths to power, she had no excuse. If it meant enduring a few seconds—or minutes—of hell to become stronger, then so be it.
Kimiko took a step forward, her breathing uneven as she reached for the container. Her hands hovered over it, trembling. She plucked the pill from its case, her alabaster fingers immediately stinging at the contact. The venom sizzled faintly against her skin, leaving an angry red mark where it touched.
I'm practically killing myself.
Kimiko closed her eyes, clutching the pill tightly in her burning fingers. Her body screamed at her to stop, but she ignored it. She had made up her mind.
She opened her eyes, staring down at the pill as if it were a physical manifestation of her resolve. Her lips tightened into a thin line.
With a flick of her wrist, she tossed the poison pill into her mouth.
The bitterness hit her immediately, acrid and vile, burning its way down her throat as she forced herself to swallow.
And then, the pain began.
fell to her knees, her entire body convulsing as her vision began to blur and blacken at the edges. The pain was excruciating—worse than anything she had ever experienced. A thousandfold more agonizing than even the moment of her death in the real world.
Her breath came in ragged gasps as she clawed at the ground, trying to focus through the torment. She began kneading her chakra, desperately attempting to bind the poison coursing through her veins with her energy, just as she'd theorized. But her body screamed in protest, and she couldn't tell if it was working—or if she was simply too far gone.
The pain was too much. Unbearable. Like her very essence was being torn apart and remade at the same time.
Her gaze darted toward the small corked bottle of antidote sitting on the table.
Her trembling hand reached out, fingers brushing the cool glass.
The bottle slipped from her grasp, shattering against the floor with a sharp crack.
Darkness began to creep into the edges of her consciousness.
Is this how it ends?
Darkness took her.