Naruto couldn't just let her leave like that. As Hinata quietly slipped away from the group, her shoulders tense, her eyes distant, he found himself stepping after her without hesitation. There was something about her tonight that felt… off. More than usual. He had known Hinata for years—he knew her kindness, her thoughtfulness, and her inner strength. But this version of her, the one that had been growing more distant since the war, was someone he didn't recognize.

"H-Hinata, wait up!" Naruto called out, quickening his pace to catch up with her.

She paused, but didn't turn to face him immediately. When she did, her expression was soft but guarded, a faint smile on her lips that didn't reach her eyes. "Naruto," she said gently, "you don't need to walk me home. I'm fine, really."

Naruto frowned, his blue eyes scanning her face for any sign of what was really going on. "Are you sure? You just… you didn't seem like yourself back there."

Hinata forced another smile, though her heart wasn't in it. She knew Naruto meant well, but she couldn't bring herself to explain what was truly haunting her. "It's just… a lot of responsibilities lately," she murmured. "Adjusting to everything after the war. I guess it's been harder than I expected."

Naruto didn't look convinced, but he didn't push her. "Yeah, I get that," he said, his voice softer now. "We all went through a lot, but you don't have to go through it alone, you know? I'm here for you."

Hinata's heart twisted at his words. She wanted to believe him, wanted to lean on the kindness he was offering, but how could she? Every time she looked at him now, she saw Neji. She saw that awful, heart-wrenching moment on the battlefield when Neji had collapsed, his life slipping away, his body draped over Naruto's shoulder as they fought to save him. That image haunted her, and no matter how much she tried, she couldn't separate Naruto from that memory.

"I appreciate that, Naruto," she said, her voice a little too quiet, a little too distant. "But I'm fine, really. I just need time."

Naruto, ever persistent, gave her a warm, encouraging smile. "Well, if you ever need anything, just let me know. I'm always around."

Hinata nodded, her steps quickening slightly as they walked through the darkened streets of Konoha. The village felt quiet tonight, peaceful even, but that peace was at odds with the storm raging inside her. She had once dreamed of moments like this—walking with Naruto, side by side, his presence making her heart flutter. But now, it all felt so… tasteless. Empty.

She wanted to be alone. She needed to be alone.

Naruto's presence, which had once been a source of comfort and warmth, now felt like a burden. It wasn't his fault—he hadn't done anything wrong—but every time she looked at him, that awful image of Neji dying in his arms resurfaced. She hated herself for it, for associating Naruto with something so tragic, for feeling this distance growing between them. He had no blame in what had happened, and yet, she couldn't shake the bitterness that gnawed at her whenever they were together.

When they finally reached the Hyūga compound, Naruto hesitated at the gate, giving her one last look of concern. "Are you sure you're okay, Hinata? I mean, really okay?"

She nodded, her voice gentle but firm. "I'll be fine. Thank you for walking me."

Naruto sighed, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. "Alright, but don't forget what I said. If you ever need to talk or anything, I'm here."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Hinata alone at the entrance of her home. She watched him go, her heart heavy with guilt. Once, a walk like this would have left her feeling like she was on cloud nine. Now, all she felt was exhaustion.

Hinata slipped inside her room, the familiar walls closing in on her as she shut the door behind her. She leaned back against it, letting out a long, shaky breath. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, emotions she could barely contain. The mask she had worn around Naruto had been fragile, barely holding together, and now that she was alone, it felt like it was shattering.

She moved to the window, looking out at the village bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. Everything looked so calm, so serene, but inside, she was anything but. Her chest felt tight, her thoughts spiraling once again to Neji—his final moments, the way his body had collapsed in front of her, the blood that had stained her hands as she tried, desperately, to save him. And Naruto… the way he had carried Neji's broken body, the look of devastation on his face.

Hinata squeezed her eyes shut, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill. She hated that she couldn't look at Naruto without thinking of that moment. She hated that the sight of him, once a source of such joy, now brought nothing but pain. But most of all, she hated herself for it.

Her gaze drifted to the small table by her bedside, where the herb she had found still lay in a small, unassuming bundle. it held the promise of an escape she had been contemplating for weeks now. The thought had crossed her mind again tonight—brief, but undeniable. Maybe if she just took it… maybe then, the pain would finally stop.

Her hand trembled as she reached for it, but something in her snapped. With a sudden burst of frustration, she grabbed the bundle and hurled it across the room, watching as it landed in the bathroom with a soft thud. The sight of it was too much—she couldn't keep it near her any longer.

Breathing heavily, Hinata moved to the bathroom, her hands shaking as she picked up the herb and threw it, flushing it away as if to rid herself of the temptation. She couldn't do this. She couldn't let herself fall into that abyss, no matter how much she wanted to.

But staying here, in this suffocating compound, trapped under the weight of her clan's expectations, wasn't helping either. Every day felt like a slow descent into madness, a battle between the image of the dutiful Hyūga heiress and the broken girl she felt like inside. The war had changed her, and yet, here she was, stuck in the same unchanging world, the same rigid traditions.

Hinata's reflection stared back at her from the mirror, her pale eyes filled with sorrow. She didn't recognize herself anymore.

She couldn't keep doing this—she had to escape, had to find something that would pull her away from these thoughts, from the grief that was consuming her. The missions. They had always been a distraction, a way to lose herself in the responsibilities of protecting the village. Maybe that was the only thing that could help her now.

Hinata made up her mind. She would ask to be reassigned to the mission roster. She would go back out into the field, where she didn't have to think, where she didn't have to face the weight of her grief and guilt every day. It was the only way she could survive. If she stayed here, in this stifling environment, with the constant reminders of Neji and the unchanging traditions of the Hyūga clan, she knew she would lose herself completely.

Maybe out there, in the chaos of missions and battlefields, she could find some sense of peace. Or at the very least, she could keep herself busy enough not to think about the unbearable weight she carried inside.

With that decision made, Hinata curled up on her bed, pulling the blanket tightly around her. Her body was exhausted, but her mind raced on, filled with the lingering echoes of her guilt and sorrow. The grief was still there, gnawing at her, but for now, the promise of something—anything—to distract her from it was enough to keep her going.

At least for tonight.