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🕑 Added 2025-06-04 17:22:04 +0000 UTC*Chapter 93: The Final Piece *
“Everyone—why’re you all here?” Naruto gaped, a bit flustered, as a crowd of people poured into the room.
Hikari, with her Byakugan activated long before they even stepped through the door, wasn’t surprised at all.
The group placed their bouquets and baskets of fruit on the bedside table, quickly filling up the space until they had to start stacking things on the floor.
“Of course we’re here to visit you in the hospital! Right, Akamaru?” Kiba grinned.
“Woof woof woof!” Akamaru barked in agreement.
Kiba reached up to ruffle Akamaru’s fur atop his head.
The pup panted happily, hopping from Kiba’s head to his right shoulder.
“It’s the weekend, and we had nothing better to do at home. We heard you guys were hurt pretty bad, so we figured we’d come check on you,” Shikamaru said with his usual laid-back attitude.
But everyone in the room knew: getting the lazy Shikamaru out of bed on a weekend to trek all the way to the hospital was no small feat.
“My injuries are already healed!” Naruto scratched the back of his head, grinning so wide his eyes practically sparkled.
For someone like Naruto, who’d never been popular, having so many friends show up to visit was overwhelming in the best way.
“Here, Naruto.” Inoichi, still wrapped in bandages across his back, handed Naruto a freshly washed apple, his teal eyes brimming with sincerity. “If it weren’t for you, we’d probably have been eaten by some beast by now. Thanks.”
“Heh heh heh heh!” Naruto took the apple with both hands, giggling like an idiot.
He was visibly getting carried away, his spiky blond hair practically blooming like a sunflower in full glory.
Though Hikari knew how much this moment meant to Naruto, she still turned her face away, unable to stomach his embarrassing display.
Too cringeworthy. Even her Byakugan could barely handle it.
Chōji pulled a huge bag of snacks from his pocket and handed it to Hikari. “My favorite barbecue-flavored chips. Get well soon!”
Ino immediately shot him a glare. “Idiot Chōji, you can’t eat greasy stuff like chips when you’re recovering!”
“But… when I eat them, I feel better super fast,” Chōji mumbled, clutching the bag of chips, looking a bit lost.
“It’s fine, Chōji. My injuries are mostly healed anyway,” Hikari reassured him.
“Really?” Chōji’s gentle face lit up at her words.
“Wishing you a speedy recovery,” Shino and Hinata said as they stepped forward to offer their blessings.
Hikari hadn’t expected these two to show up.
She barely knew Shino due to his low-key presence, and as for Hinata—well, her relationship with the Hyūga clan’s heiress was probably the frostiest of all.
Hinata, sensing Hikari’s confusion, blushed slightly and said in a soft voice, “We were saved thanks to Kazama-sensei’s rescue. Thank you for helping avenge him.”
“Hm.” Shino gave a curt nod, but through his sunglasses and high collar, Hikari could see the sincerity on his face.
“Kazama-sensei?” Hikari asked.
Realizing she didn’t know about Kazama Yue, the group eagerly filled her in, talking over each other until she finally pieced it together.
The wound on Yagetsu’s chest had been from a battle with Kazama Yue.
No wonder she hadn’t connected the dots—Kazama Yue, someone even she couldn’t defeat, had managed to pierce Yagetsu’s Lightning Release Armor. If that injury hadn’t slowed Yagetsu down, their fight would’ve been even tougher.
Beep beep beep…
As they chatted, little specks of emotion began drifting from the bed next door.
Sasuke, maintaining his cool and aloof demeanor, lay there, his head radiating frustration with a faint trace of envy and jealousy floating like willow catkins. It was impossible for Hikari to ignore.
Having just survived the Uchiha clan’s massacre, Sasuke wasn’t exactly in the mood for the cheerful bustle around him.
Ino and Sakura, leading Sasuke’s fan club, quietly watched his profile, their eyes practically overflowing with worry and pity.
These people had nothing to do with Hikari—they were clearly here for Sasuke. But they didn’t know how to comfort him, and Sasuke’s icy aura kept even his fan club at a distance.
If even they couldn’t approach him, the others—who weren’t close to Sasuke—definitely wouldn’t dare.
For a moment, the hospital room felt split in two: one side buzzing with the joy of survival, the other steeped in the loneliness of loss.
People’s joys and sorrows really are worlds apart.
“So, Naruto, how’d you guys take down that terrifying guy?” Kiba, who’d seen firsthand how fearsome Yagetsu was, looked at Naruto with curiosity.
“Well, we—” Naruto started.
Crunch!
Hikari, somehow already munching on a bag of chips, chewed loudly while staring at Naruto.
He froze mid-sentence, his face stiffening as he stammered, too nervous to continue.
“The Hokage said it’s classified,” Hikari cut in, using Sarutobi Hiruzen as a convenient shield.
She was worried Naruto’s big mouth might accidentally spill something he shouldn’t, so she’d warned him to keep quiet before everyone arrived.
Her Kaguya clan’s Shikotsumyaku had already been exposed to Sarutobi, but there was no need to broadcast it to the world.
Her ability also held a hidden economic value that Hikari absolutely couldn’t let anyone discover.
In the shinobi world, chakra-conducting metals were insanely expensive. The Fourth Hokage’s Flying Thunder God kunai were made of such material, each one costing a fortune most ninja couldn’t afford. Yet the demand for chakra metals was insatiable.
Hikari’s Shikotsumyaku-produced bones were harder than metal, could stretch and morph at will, and conducted chakra with a perfect 100% efficiency.
Compare that to the best chakra-conducting metals on the market, which topped out at around 80% efficiency—or 90% with the finest craftsmanship—and Hikari’s ability was in a league of its own.
Realizing she was a walking goldmine of chakra-conducting material, Hikari always made sure her bones disintegrated after use to keep her secret safe.
Luckily, Sarutobi didn’t know the full extent of her power, or he might not have been so quick to claim he had no designs on her kekkei genkai.
Seeing Hikari invoke the Hokage, Shikamaru and the others dropped the topic.
After chatting a bit longer, they started to say their goodbyes.
As they left, Shikamaru, acting as the group’s spokesperson, placed a beautifully wrapped sealed box on Hikari’s bed, tied with a delicate bow—clearly Ino’s handiwork.
“We’ve said it a bunch already, but thanks again. This is just a little something from all of us. Hope you like it.”
Hikari’s Byakugan had already seen through the box’s lid.
Five scrolls, each marked with a clan name: Yamanaka (Yin), Nara (Yin), Inuzuka (Yang), Akimichi (Yang), Aburame (Yang).
Even Hikari, usually so composed, couldn’t hide the spark of excitement in her eyes.
Knowing her sensory abilities, Shikamaru saw her pause and chuckled. “No need to stress. I checked with my dad, and he said we should properly thank you for saving us. These are just basic techniques—nothing secret or sensitive from our clans. You can take them without worry. Honestly, we couldn’t think of anything else you might like.”
“Yeah, Hikari, just accept it!” the others chimed in, their young faces full of sincerity.
“Well… okay! Thank you, guys. I love it!” Hikari said, unable to resist the gift of Yin and Yang chakra nature knowledge.
She knew these clans wouldn’t share their true secret techniques, so these were likely just general Yin and Yang training methods. Still, for her, they were priceless.
She’d already mastered Water and Wind, and she could learn Lightning, Earth, and Fire from Sarutobi. The only two elusive chakra natures—Yin and Yang—had now unexpectedly fallen into her hands.
Her plan to fuse all seven chakra natures into her kekkei tōta was, without her realizing it, complete.
As Shikamaru and the others left, Hikari looked at the precious gift box, unable to hide her joy.
If Kurama popped out of Naruto’s stomach right now, it’d see orange bubbles of happiness fizzing above her head.
Guess you really can’t stay unlucky forever.
To avoid the fallout from the Uchiha massacre, she’d done nothing but train in the Forest of Death, only to get targeted by Cloud ninja. A former Kage-level shinobi with no chakra signature to detect, weakened but still packing overpowered jutsu—what rotten luck.
But now, good things were piling up, proving that old saying: When things hit rock bottom, they can only go up.
Hikari, thrilled but not losing her head, knew these gifts weren’t just out of gratitude. Her strength—killing a Cloud elite jōnin at six and a half—had likely spread through the village. Her name was probably already on every major clan leader’s desk.
With the Third Hokage getting old, Hikari’s potential made her a future powerhouse, maybe even a candidate for Hokage someday.
Like Sarutobi, the clans knew it was better to build ties with her now while she was young. Later, when she was stronger, basic jutsu knowledge wouldn’t cut it.
Would anyone try to suppress her to keep her from vying for Hokage? Unlikely. She was too young. By the time she was old enough to compete, it’d be decades—maybe twenty, thirty, or even fifty years. Konoha was only sixty-something years old. Suppressing her now would be like the First Hokage targeting Minato Namikaze for fear of him stealing the Hokage seat—absurd.
Her age was perfect: potential, strength, and no conflicts.
The seeds she’d planted when she entered the Ninja Academy were finally bearing fruit.
Hikari let out a long breath.
The gift box tore open with a gust of Wind Release, revealing the neatly arranged Yin and Yang scrolls.
“I’m checking out of the hospital tomorrow!” she declared.
“Huh? Are your injuries really healed?” Naruto asked, spitting an apple core into his hand.
As someone who’d been there that night, he knew better than anyone how bad Hikari’s wounds were.
“Pretty much,” Hikari said, touching her bandaged chest. There was still a faint twinge of pain, but it wasn’t a problem.
She was eager to leave for two reasons: the Lightning Release Chakra Mode and these Yin-Yang scrolls were too tempting, and her Shikotsumyaku, after absorbing some of Kurama’s chakra, was an unknown quantity. She wanted to see what changes her kekkei genkai had undergone.
“Awesome! I’ve been dying to get out of here,” Naruto said. With his Uzumaki vitality and Kurama’s healing, his minor injuries had healed that same night. He’d only stayed because leaving would’ve left Hikari and Sasuke alone in the room.
“Too bad all these fruits and flowers will go to waste,” Naruto said, smacking his lips, his blue eyes sneaking glances at the brooding boy in the next bed.
Hikari gave a knowing smile.
The bond between “Sasuke” and “Naruto” was still strong.
The fruit could obviously be taken home, so it wouldn’t go to waste. Naruto clearly wanted to give it to Sasuke but couldn’t make the call since some belonged to Hikari. He was worried she’d disagree and cause tension with Sasuke, so he was being roundabout.
Who says Naruto’s dumb? When it comes to Sasuke, his emotional intelligence is off the charts.
Hikari, in a great mood from the scrolls, wasn’t about to be stingy over some fruit.
“Yeah, it’d be a shame to waste it. Go give it to Sasuke,” she said.
“Heh heh!” Naruto grinned, grabbing the pile of fruit and heading to Sasuke’s bedside. “We’re leaving tomorrow, so—”
“No,” Sasuke cut him off, hands forming an inverted triangle as he leaned against his pillow, his tone cold as ice.
Naruto’s face fell, his kindness brushed off. But thinking of Sasuke’s recent tragedy, his expression softened, though his voice stayed defiant. “I’m just the delivery guy. Hikari said to give it to you, so take it up with her.” He plopped the fruit on Sasuke’s table and walked off.
Hikari, who’d been subtly using her Byakugan to check their chakra, blinked in surprise. She’d been curious if Asura and Indra’s powers would stir during their interaction, but Naruto had dragged her into it.
Sasuke’s eyes flicked to her.
Her silver hair spilled over her shoulders, her blindfolded eyes seeming to pierce through him. Sitting cross-legged on her bed, she radiated the aura of a true powerhouse.
Hikari wasn’t like the fangirls at the academy. She didn’t take nonsense. Sasuke could snap at Naruto or Sakura, but he wouldn’t dare act up in front of Hikari, who’d just taken down an elite jōnin.
After all, that night, Itachi had shown him what an elite jōnin was capable of. In Sasuke’s mind, Hikari was on par with Itachi.
He opened his mouth, but no harsh words came out, and he couldn’t bring himself to say anything soft either.
In the end, he stayed silent, emotions like disappointment, fear, and confusion swirling above him.
“I’ve been through something like you have,” Hikari said, her voice calm as she looked at him. “My parents and clan were destroyed in a disaster.”
Sasuke slowly raised his head, meeting her steady gaze.
“Being negative won’t solve anything. It just makes things worse. That’s something I learned the hard way, over a long time.”
Sasuke wanted to argue, to call her out for preaching, but he could feel the sincerity in her tone.
“I’m not trying to change you,” Hikari continued, reading his mood even without the emotional specks. “Pain like that can’t be replaced or fixed. You have to work through it yourself. Seeing you like this reminds me of myself back then, so I’m sharing what I’ve learned, hoping you’ll take fewer detours, waste less time.
“That’s all.”
Naruto and Sasuke both looked at her, their expressions complex.
To think that someone as strong as Hikari had such a tragic past. People’s sorrows might not connect, but their fates could be strikingly similar.
Sasuke’s lips trembled, the blood of that night still vivid in his mind. “I don’t understand…”
“If you want revenge, get strong and kill your enemy. If you have questions, get stronger and force the answers out of them. You’re not clueless about how to solve the problem—you just lack the means to do it.”
With that, Hikari turned away, done with Sasuke, who seemed to be processing her words.
She’d said enough for today. If she weren’t in such a good mood, and if Sasuke’s state didn’t mirror her own past, she wouldn’t have bothered.
Her fingers formed a cross in front of her chest.
Multiple Shadow Clone Jutsu!
Boom!
The bed creaked under the strain.
As the smoke cleared, five identical Hikaris appeared on the bed.
The four clones exchanged glances, each grabbing a scroll and sitting on the floor to study.
Hikari’s real body leaned against her pillow, unrolling the Akimichi (Yang) scroll, diving into her studies.
Crunch! Crunch!
She munched on Chōji’s barbecue chips while flipping through the scroll.
Her Byakugan swept over Naruto and Sasuke, catching their wide-eyed stares at her shadow clones. They clearly knew the secret of using shadow clones to train faster.
If Kaguya Ōtsutsuki ever revived, Naruto and Sasuke would likely be the ones to stop her. Hopefully, they’d grow even stronger than in the original story.
Chapter 94 Rising Fame in Konoha
The next day.
Before finalizing her discharge paperwork, Hikari, carrying a bouquet of flowers brought by Shikamaru and the others, went to visit Kazeuma Etsu, who was once again hospitalized with severe injuries.
Whether by coincidence or not, he was still in that dimly lit hospital room, unchanged in the slightest.
With both arms gone, Kazeuma relied on a caregiver for daily needs. When Hikari entered, the caregiver was applying medicine to his wounds.
The bloodstained bandages were undone, revealing that his arms, along with half his shoulders, were completely gone. The wound was a ghastly sight—charred bones and blood, smeared with some unknown yellow medicinal oil.
Losing both arms was a death sentence for a ninjutsu-type ninja.
His career as a shinobi was over.
“I heard you twisted that bastard’s head clean off,” Kazeuma said as Hikari walked in with the flowers. With the caregiver’s help, he sat up, his neck tilting against the headboard, just like when Hikari used to visit the hospital to learn Fūton techniques from him.
“Using the Fūton you taught me,” Hikari replied, placing the bouquet by the bedside. She noticed the same pitiful lily from before, now nearly wilted. Next to it were a fruit basket and flowers identical to hers—probably left by Hinata and the others who visited yesterday.
Kazeuma’s lips curled into a faint, unstoppable smile. “I’m not that skilled.”
Pop, pop… Little bubbles of joy and pride seemed to float above his head.
Hikari sometimes found it hard to keep a straight face. Her ability to sense good and evil made interactions with people who said one thing but felt another downright comical, and it had been lifting her spirits lately.
“What about your arms… what’ll you do?” she asked.
“No more ninja life for me. Guess I’ll live off the village’s pension,” Kazeuma said, a bitter expression crossing his face.
“How much will that be?”
“No idea. They haven’t sent it yet.”
“If it doesn’t come through in a few days, I’ll ask around for you.”
Kazeuma blinked at her words. “You’ve got that kind of pull now?”
“Eh, something like that.”
The room fell quiet.
The caregiver, wearing gloves, applied ointment to Kazeuma’s wounds as he gritted his teeth against the pain. His dark green eyes studied the girl before him, now so different from before, his expression complex.
He’d overheard plenty from the doctors and nurses these past few days: Hikari, the one who defeated Yugakure’s veteran elite Jōnin, “Raging Thunder”; personally escorted by the Third Hokage; Konoha’s greatest genius in history, with potential to surpass even the First Hokage. There were even rumors that the Third was considering taking her as his final disciple, making her the fourth legendary ninja after the Sannin.
Of course, there were always the so-called “清醒者” (sober ones) who doubted her feats from the start. Kazeuma, lying in his hospital bed, had unwittingly become their prime example to debunk her achievements.
They’d say: During her academy days, she easily defeated Jōnin Kazeuma in front of everyone, breaking his ribs. He recovered in this very room—doctors, nurses, and ninja academy instructors can confirm it.
A first-year academy student beating an elite Jōnin sounded absurd, but given her other accomplishments, it wasn’t entirely unbelievable. The doubts quickly faded.
In just a few days, the blind girl who once didn’t even qualify for the ninja academy had become the face of Konoha’s new generation of prodigies.
Whether Hikari’s words carried weight, Kazeuma wasn’t sure—but they definitely held more sway than his.
“Thanks,” he said.
“No need.” Hikari waved it off. “Focus on recovering. Who knows, maybe one day medical ninjutsu will advance enough to restore your arms.”
“Here’s hoping.”
Kazeuma’s mood wasn’t great. A ninjutsu to regenerate lost limbs wasn’t something that could be developed overnight. Even the legendary Tsunade-hime would likely be helpless.
After some small talk, Hikari prepared to leave.
“Wait,” Kazeuma called out.
“I want to give you a Fūton ninjutsu.”
The familiar yet unexpected offer made Hikari pause. Ever since she’d awakened, people had been showering her with gifts—Raiton, Yin-Yang techniques, rare ninjutsu knowledge—all handed to her like they were worthless.
“What kind of ninjutsu?” she asked.
“An S-rank Fūton technique I created. It’s not perfect yet; there are still some flaws to iron out.” Kazeuma’s dim eyes glanced at his empty sleeves. “You can see my situation. This technique’s wasted on me. I hope you’ll complete it someday.”
Hikari fell silent for a moment.
She already had a mountain of tasks: mastering Raiton chakra mode, Yin and Yang techniques—none of them easy. Plus, she still remembered Sarutobi Hiruzen’s advice on the rooftop: There are countless powerful ninjutsu in the shinobi world, but the ones that suit your fighting style are the most important.
An S-rank Fūton technique created by Kazeuma, given his skill level and fighting style, was unlikely to mesh with hers. Not to mention it was incomplete—training it would be tough, and perfecting it would take even more time and effort. Even if she finished it, an S-rank technique in difficulty didn’t guarantee S-rank power. If the results were lackluster, all her effort would be wasted.
With the looming threat of the Kaguya clan’s bloodline disease and Kaguya Ōtsutsuki’s world-ending crisis, Hikari’s time was too precious to squander.
“Sorry, I might be… pretty busy lately,” she said tactfully, but Kazeuma caught the underlying rejection.
His life’s work, the “Thunder-Shattering Shuttle,” meant little to her.
Pop, pop, pop… Dark bubbles of disappointment spread above his head, hitting Hikari like a wave.
“It’s fine. Your priorities come first,” he said.
Seeing Kazeuma’s dejection, Hikari wasn’t sure how to comfort him. She could pretend to accept his technique and let it gather dust at home, but that would be an even greater insult to his efforts than refusing outright.
Konoha had plenty of ninja. Surely, one day, a talented kid would come along, stumble upon Kazeuma-sensei’s guidance, and perfect his technique with their brilliance.
No need to hang her hopes on this one tree.
“Wishing you a speedy recovery. I’ll head out now,” she said.
“Yeah, take care.”
Kazeuma forced a smile, pulling himself together.
Click.
Hikari turned the doorknob, letting a sliver of sunlight spill through the crack, brightening the dim room.
“Keep the door open. A bit of light will lift your mood and help your wounds heal faster,” she suggested.
“Tch, mind your own business,” Kazeuma muttered, glancing at the caregiver tending to his bandages. A rare softness crossed his gaunt face.
The caregiver leaned close, pretending to focus on applying the medicine, her beautiful face flushed with a suspicious blush.
Ugh.
SLAM!
Hikari, feeling like a third wheel, slammed the door shut and walked away.
Discharging from the hospital went smoothly. The village covered all her medical expenses, and she’d heard they were planning to award her a hefty sum for her contributions during the crisis.
Hikari didn’t care much about the money. Between the Byakugan’s gambling potential and the Kaguya clan’s bone-manipulating abilities, she had wealth beyond measure. Her dramatic reaction to Might Guy burning her ten billion ryō was mostly an act to guilt-trip him for leverage.
Her attending physician handed her two forms to sign: one for discharge, to waive liability for future complications, and another for her autograph, to keep as a collectible for future value.
She signed both.
The Kaguya bloodline disease could flare up anytime, and if she wanted to learn medical ninjutsu later, she might need this doctor’s help. A signature was a small price for goodwill.
Once all the paperwork was done, Hikari stepped out of Konoha Hospital’s main entrance, the midday sun blazing overhead.
“All done with the paperwork?” a voice called.
“Yeah, but what are you doing here?”
Not far from the hospital, Hikari spotted a silver-haired man with a broom-like hairstyle, squatting in the shade and waving her over.
“The Third said you’re still recovering and might be in danger. Since you’re staying at my place, he asked me to stick close and protect you for a few days,” Kakashi said, his single eye squinting as if he’d just been dragged out of bed.
“Fine,” Hikari replied, knowing she had no say in the matter.
Her Kirigakure identity was still unverified. Sarutobi Hiruzen was likely investigating, but without confirmation, he was worried she’d lied and might flee. So, he’d assigned Kakashi to both protect and monitor her.
After killing Yozuki Takeo, there were only a handful of people in the village who could match Hikari’s strength. Kakashi, being both powerful and her landlord, was the perfect choice.
“Just stay put at home for a few days. I don’t want to chase you around. I’m supposed to be on vacation,” Kakashi said, lazily ruffling his messy hair.
“What’s in it for me?” Hikari asked.
“Your rent’s on me.”
“Not enough. Sweeten the deal.”
Kakashi sighed, closing his eye for three seconds as he mentally calculated his mission pay. He raised one finger. “I’ll cover your food, lodging, everything for these few days. Any more, and I’m in the red.”
“Deal!”
Her goal achieved, Hikari didn’t waste time. She pointed toward the main street leading to Konoha’s center. “Let’s go. Ichiraku Ramen!”
Hikari strode forward, while Kakashi, weighing his wallet, trailed slowly behind, fully embracing his role as a bodyguard.
During her battle with Yozuki Takeo, the blind cane she’d used to escape Kirigakure had been knocked away and lost. She hadn’t bothered looking for it. After that fight, the cane wouldn’t fool anyone anymore.
Both being ninja, they moved swiftly and soon reached Konoha’s bustling main street.
It was noon, and the streets were packed. The aroma of steamed sanshoku dango and grilled squid wafted over the stone-paved road, but the crowd at the ninja tool shop far outshone the dango stall’s customers.
The shop’s owner, eyes crinkled into slits from smiling, stood on the steps, waving enthusiastically. “You all know Hikari the Sun-Chaser, right? The one who surpassed Kakashi’s record, Konoha’s true number-one genius! When she tested her chakra nature in our shop, the chakra paper ripped into five pieces—gave me a shock! I’m telling you, only our new ‘premium chakra paper’ can handle talent like that!”
Blah, blah, blah.
The shopkeeper waved around some fancy-packaged chakra paper, hyping it up. Hikari, embarrassed, lowered her head and hurried through the crowd, dragging Konoha’s second-best genius, whose record had just been overshadowed.
Kakashi, walking beside her, rolled his dead-fish eye. Should’ve extorted her harder when I sold her that Shadow Clone technique.
Soon, they reached Ichiraku Ramen. The rich, savory scent of tonkotsu broth hit Hikari’s nose, instantly sparking her appetite after three days of hospital food.
Pushing aside the noren curtain, they saw the counter packed with customers.
“Gonna have to wait,” Kakashi said, familiar with the routine. He found a spot in the waiting area and sat on a small stool.
Ichiraku’s shop was tiny. Coming at peak lunchtime meant waiting, so Kakashi usually visited in the quieter afternoons.
Hikari sighed. Both times she’d come here, it was like this.
“Your large tonkotsu ramen, enjoy!” Ayame, the young and pretty server, emerged from the kitchen with a tray of steaming bowls.
After serving the customers, she glanced at the waiting area and spotted two silver-haired, seemingly disabled people. “Kakashi-san, and… Hikari! Are your injuries better?”
Her eyes sparkled with excitement, her voice drawing the attention of the diners quietly enjoying their meals.
“Much better,” Hikari replied, a bit uncomfortable with Ayame’s enthusiasm.
She’d only met Ayame once, yet the girl remembered her name and knew about her injuries? Though Hikari knew this was likely Sarutobi Hiruzen’s doing, she hadn’t expected the diners to react.
“Is that… Hikari the Sun-Chaser?” one whispered.
“Silver hair, blind eyes—it’s gotta be her!” A middle-aged customer squinted, glancing between Hikari and Kakashi, quickly ruling out the tired-looking man who seemed like he’d just pulled an all-nighter.
“Unbelievable!” someone exclaimed, and the sentiment was instantly echoed.
Blind, barely over four feet tall, petite and frail, with soft, pale skin—she looked sweeter than the chashu on their ramen. Who’d guess this girl could tear apart tigers and leopards as an elite Jōnin?
Don’t judge a book by its cover.
The crowd’s curious stares made Hikari feel like she could charge admission at a zoo.
“When I graduated from the academy, it was like this too. It’ll die down eventually,” Kakashi said coolly, either comforting her or subtly bragging.
“Ayame-san!” A middle-aged woman with a young boy waved her over.
“Is something wrong? Not liking the ramen?” Ayame hurried over, confused.
“No, it’s delicious.” The woman stood, patting the boy’s head to signal him to follow, then smiled at Hikari. “That day at the training grounds, my Ika was there. If you hadn’t stopped that attacking ninja, I don’t dare think what could’ve happened. Ayame-san, we’ll take ours to go. Leave our seats for Hikari-san and her friend.”
“But Mom, ramen’s no good when it’s packed!” the boy, his mouth smeared with broth, protested.
Whack!
Hikari watched the kindly woman smack Ika on the head. He quietly wiped his mouth with a napkin and said no more.
“Well… alright,” Hikari said, scratching her temple as she and Kakashi took the boy’s seats amid the woman’s thanks.
“Oh, and put Hikari-san’s meal on my tab. I’ll settle it next time,” the woman called back from outside.
“No need, big sis. Someone’s treating me today,” Hikari replied, patting Kakashi’s shoulder.
Kakashi, sitting beside her, nodded grudgingly. Dragged out of his vacation, forced to play bodyguard, outdone in fame, and now footing the bill—unlike his own days as a prodigy, when he was just gawked at like a monkey, Hikari was getting seats and offers to pay. Where did I go wrong?
Seeing the confused, sour bubbles popping over Kakashi’s head, Hikari stifled a laugh and raised her hand. “Ayame-san, twenty large tonkotsu ramens!”
“Coming right up!” Ayame, unfazed by Hikari’s appetite, grabbed the order and darted to the kitchen.
Kakashi, who hadn’t even ordered yet, raised his hand in vain. His dead-fish eye flicked to the menu prices on the wall. Twenty bowls for her, one for me… twenty-one bowls of ramen… Two bubbles of regret floated above his head, their complex emotions practically spelling out “REGRET” in big letters.
(Volume Two: Wrath of Wind and Thunder, Complete)
Chapter 95: Taking a Disciple
Half a month later.
The Hokage’s office.
Golden sunlight streamed through the window, revealing specks of dust swirling chaotically in the beams.
Sarutobi Hiruzen, puffing on his pipe, pushed aside a towering stack of important documents.
The past few days had been a headache, dealing with the Cloud Village’s nonsense.
They flat-out denied any involvement in the attack on Konoha’s students, offering no apologies or compensation.
As for the ironclad evidence—Yagetsu and the three jōnin who infiltrated the village—the Cloud had already issued a bounty on them back home, labeling them rogue ninja.
“It was the work of rebels.”
With that single sentence, they brushed off any accusations of starting a war.
Of course, no one was naive enough to buy it.
These were just diplomatic games, a mutual step back to save face and avoid real conflict.
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Konoha wasn’t eager for war either. The Cloud, known for its unity, had already lost face by branding their own ninja as rogues. Trying to extort them further was a nonstarter.
Sarutobi had always favored a softer approach. The only reason things escalated this far was because the attack targeted the Nine-Tails and the kids, hitting a nerve with many.
In the past, this would’ve been swept under the rug.
He was no longer the “Ninja Hero” of his youth. Now, he was the refined and mild-mannered “Ninja Professor.”
War destroyed everything beautiful.
Konoha’s hard-earned peace wasn’t something he wanted to see shattered, nor did he want anyone to lose their lives.
As for the victims who paid the price? Sometimes, the harsh reality was that the justice of a few had to yield to the greater good.
It was a disgusting truth, but reality was cruel.
Years ago, when he went to the Cloud to sign a peace treaty, only to be betrayed and hunted by the Gold and Silver Brothers, leading to his teacher’s death, Sarutobi had wanted to tear up the treaty and unleash his hatred through war. But thinking of the village’s peace-hungry citizens and the children waiting to be fed, he’d swallowed his pride and signed his name.
The individual must yield to the collective.
That moment taught him the weight of that truth.
Knock, knock, knock.
A steady rap came from the door.
“Hokage-sama, Danzō-sama requests an audience.”
“Come in.”
Click.
The door swung open.
Shimura Danzō hobbled in on his cane, his single eye scanning the room’s shadowy corners.
Whoosh, whoosh!
Hidden Anbu operatives emerged from the darkness, exchanging a glance with Sarutobi. With his nod, they swiftly left the room.
Thud.
The door closed behind the considerate Anbu, leaving the two men alone—one seated, one standing.
Sunlight bathed Sarutobi’s wrinkled face, casting a golden glow, while Danzō’s features looked even more sinister and grim in contrast.
“What is it?” Sarutobi asked.
“Your intel.” Danzō, for the umpteenth time, glanced at the Hokage’s hat emblazoned with the kanji for “Fire” before tossing a file onto Sarutobi’s desk.
Unfazed by Danzō’s brusque attitude, Sarutobi picked up the file, noting the label: Hikari Tsukiyo.
He had a hunch.
“You read it?”
“To get this intel out of the Mist, another Root spy died. Don’t I deserve to see it?” Danzō shot back.
“Your Root no longer exists.”
Ignoring Danzō’s twitching face, Sarutobi tore open the file and pulled out a bloodstained report, surprised to find it was an Anbu wanted poster.
He squinted, holding it up to the sunlight for a closer look.
In the top left corner was the kanji for “Secret,” adorned with the Mist’s Anbu-specific pattern.
Below was a photo of a girl.
Surrounded by Mist Anbu, the silver-haired blind girl had blood dripping from her fingers, her face soft and vulnerable.
Name: Hikari Taketori (suspected)
Abilities: Anti-chakra detection, Kekkei Genkai: Shikotsumyaku (details unknown), long-range attack capabilities.
Key History: Killed three special jōnin.
Strength Rating: A+
Last Seen: Peichuan Port (suspected to have fled to the Land of Fire or Lightning)
Capture Orders: Dead or alive.
The back of the poster had a few scrawled lines in blood, barely legible, followed by a neat translation of the code:
“Taketori clan exterminated, ancient unknown treasure, Anbu Captain Shunsuke Kurio missing, Fourth Mizukage abdicated, Fifth Mizukage Mei Terumī—”
The rest was too messy to read.
Huff…
Thick smoke poured from Sarutobi’s nose as his wrinkled, age-spotted face relaxed.
The photo, abilities, history, and the timing and reason for her clan’s destruction all matched up.
Aside from the unclear source of her tailed beast chakra, Hikari’s identity was solid.
Sarutobi looked at Danzō. “The source of this intel—”
“It’s legit,” Danzō interrupted, knowing his old friend’s concerns after years together. “One of the three special jōnin she killed was ‘Kiba’s’ younger sister. Back then, Shunsuke Kurio hadn’t gone missing yet, so it couldn’t be a Mist setup.”
Hearing even the paranoid Danzō confirm it, Sarutobi nodded, finally convinced of Hikari’s identity.
“No issues, then.”
He sealed the intel and tucked it into a hidden compartment in his bookshelf.
Turning back, he noticed Danzō still standing there.
“Something else?”
“You’re just letting the Cloud off like that?” Danzō’s face twisted, his single eye glinting coldly. “They attacked our home, Sarutobi!”
“Don’t do anything unnecessary,” Sarutobi replied lightly, picking up a document to read, ignoring Danzō’s murderous aura.
“Heh!” Danzō scoffed, fully aware of his old friend’s tendencies. “Wear that mask too long, and you won’t be able to take it off.”
“Same goes for you.”
The two old men fell silent, neither speaking for a long while. Finally, Sarutobi broke the tension. “You’ve been standing there forever. Just say what’s on your mind!”
Danzō’s wrinkled face contorted, as if he’d swallowed a fly.
After a pause, he spat out, “Hikari Tsukiyo—I want her for Root.”
“I seem to recall someone saying they don’t take disabled people,” Sarutobi teased, smirking at Danzō’s discomfort, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Danzō’s face tightened, but he stayed silent.
The truth was, after leaving the Hokage’s office that day, his subordinates had already delivered Hikari’s intel. Regret was an understatement.
He’d wanted to go back and demand her, but his pride wouldn’t let him. That morning, he’d loudly declared Root didn’t take handicapped people—loud enough for his subordinates outside to hear. To backtrack the same afternoon was too humiliating, even for thick-skinned Danzō.
Plus, with the Uchiha situation spiraling, Root and Anbu had been focused on their rebellion, so Hikari’s matter wasn’t urgent and was shelved. He’d planned to revisit it after everything settled.
He hadn’t even known about the Cloud’s attack initially, too busy in Root’s underground base sorting through Sharingan and secret techniques from the Uchiha massacre.
The Uchiha’s thousand-year legacy was a treasure trove of complex history, jutsu, and rare knowledge. He still hadn’t finished cataloging it.
If Sarutobi hadn’t used a former Root spy to dig into the Mist, Danzō would still be in that basement, oblivious to recent events in Konoha.
He certainly wouldn’t have known the blind girl he’d rejected was this extraordinary.
The thought of her talent—rivaling the First Hokage—made even Danzō’s cold gaze burn with interest.
“A six-year-old elite jōnin? I’ve never heard of such a thing. If she joins my Root, I’ll forge her into Konoha’s sharpest blade.”
“For the last time, your Root is gone,” Sarutobi warned.
Root’s actions during the Uchiha incident had gone too far, unsettling not just civilians but also Konoha’s major clans.
Civilians were easy to sway—Hikari’s genius reputation could distract them—but the clans with their secret techniques and kekkei genkai weren’t so easily fooled.
Disbanding Root and stripping Danzō of his Hokage Advisor title was as much about punishing him as it was about reassuring the clans to prevent unrest.
“I’m not talking about Root,” Danzō snapped, cutting off Sarutobi’s deflection. He stepped forward, leaning on his cane, locking eyes with him. “You said you’d give me Hikari Tsukiyo!”
“You didn’t want her then.”
“I changed my mind!” Danzō declared, unapologetically.
With Root disbanded and his position revoked, his influence was crippled. To get Hikari, he was throwing caution to the wind.
Even Sarutobi was stunned speechless by his old friend’s shamelessness.
But he’d already made up his mind: Hikari would never go to Danzō.
Chakra comes from mental and physical energy, with willpower as the driving force. Root’s training stripped away humanity, turning people into tools without will or thought.
Such a person could never become a top-tier shinobi.
If Hikari were an ordinary genius or her identity was questionable, handing her to Danzō wouldn’t matter. But the intel, bought with a spy’s life, proved her clean.
Giving a prodigy like Hikari—potentially on par with the First Hokage—to Danzō would be like tossing gold into a cesspool. Even Konoha’s vast resources couldn’t afford to waste talent like that.
Sarutobi’s face wasn’t as thick as Danzō’s. As the Third Hokage, he couldn’t bring himself to say, “Well, I changed my mind too.”
“You’re neither the Hokage Advisor nor Root’s leader anymore. Even if I gave her to you, what authority do you have?” Sarutobi spread his hands, hitting Danzō’s weak spot.
Danzō, now just a former advisor—or, less kindly, an ordinary elite jōnin—had no grounds to command Hikari, who’d killed an elite jōnin herself.
Realizing his awkward position, Danzō’s eye glinted as he devised a workaround.
“I’ve never taken a disciple in my life. She’s skilled in Wind Release, so I’ll take her as my student and pass down my legacy. We’re both students of the Second Hokage—her talent won’t be wasted under me. That’s fair, right?”
“And if she doesn’t want to be your disciple?”
“She’ll want to, whether she likes it or not. Just agree to hand her over, and I’ll handle the rest.”
Danzō was determined to get Hikari, ready to use coercion, bribes, or deceit to suit her unique traits.
“No way,” Sarutobi said, shaking his head, rejecting him outright.
“Why not?” Danzō’s eye narrowed, his forehead wrinkles deepening like knife cuts.
After all he’d said, was his old friend really not giving him any face?
Sarutobi slowly looked up at Danzō, who was starting to seethe. “Half a month ago, I already took Hikari Tsukiyo as my final disciple.”
“You’re too late, Danzō.”
Boom!
A surge of powerful chakra erupted from Danzō.
Whoosh!
A gust swept through the office, sending papers on the desk fluttering wildly.
“You want to fight me?” Sarutobi asked, pressing down on the flipping documents, his deep eyes fixed on Danzō’s murderous glare, calm as an ocean.
Danzō’s cane creaked under his grip, the cross-shaped scar on his chin almost distorting. It was just like back then.
The Hokage position had been within his grasp, but a half-second’s hesitation let Sarutobi snatch it away.
Now, competing for Hikari, it was the same story all over again!
The disciple that should’ve been his was stolen by Sarutobi.
And he had the gall to say I’m too late?
The Third Hokage taking a final disciple, and not a whisper of it in Konoha after half a month? Who was he kidding?
This was blatant bullying!
Back then, and now—I was here first!
“You’ve gone too far, Sarutobi!” Danzō spat through gritted teeth.
Knowing he had no chance, he stormed out, face dark with fury.
Watching his old friend’s angry departure, bathed in golden sunlight, Sarutobi began to understand the root of Danzō’s outburst.
But even knowing, he couldn’t give Hikari to him.
Their era was over.
Danzō, who once held his own against other village leaders, was visibly weakening, his chakra fading.
They could still hold the line now, but in ten years? That was uncertain.
The Sannin had all left the village.
The Fourth Hokage and Kushina were dead.
Konoha had plenty of jōnin and elite jōnin but lacked a decisive top-tier powerhouse.
Kakashi, whom he’d pinned hopes on, was held back by his Sharingan. Might Guy was strong but a one-use trump card.
Now, he’d found new hope in Hikari.
With her prodigious growth, reaching Kage-level in ten years shouldn’t be hard.
She’d ensure Konoha’s top-tier strength didn’t falter after he and Danzō faded, buying time for the next generation to grow.
Hikari’s true value wasn’t as a blade or a shield but as a pillar to fill the gap in Konoha’s elite forces.
He wasn’t stealing a genius from Danzō.
He was paving the way for Konoha after their deaths.
Huff…
Sarutobi exhaled a long breath, looking down at the mountain of paperwork.
Soon, the sound of flipping pages filled the office once more.
