96-97

Chapter 96: Return 

Konoha’s Main Gate 

By September, Konoha had shed the summer heat, its sun-drenched leaves glowing with golden hues from within. 

“Konoha, I’m back!!!”  

On the dirt road before the village gate, a burly man roared to the heavens. He carried a long pole wrapped in black cloth over his shoulder, luggage dangling from its end, striding confidently toward Konoha. 

As his figure drew closer, his identity became unmistakable: the wrinkled green spandex, the shiny watermelon-rind hairstyle—Konoha’s rare beast, Might Guy! 

Thud, thud.  

Treading the familiar dirt path, Guy’s dark face sported thick, arched eyebrows, his heart surging with excitement as the iron-green gates loomed larger.  

The month-long escort mission had utterly exhausted him.  

No wonder the mission’s pay was so generous—it wasn’t just some simple caravan job. The wealthy girl hidden in the group turned out to be a princess from a small nation, traveling to the Fire Country’s capital not for trade but to seek political aid. 

Her pursuers? Traitors who’d murdered her king to seize power. Even worse, the princess’s maid in the caravan was a spy for the rebels. 

In the end, Might Guy, the unassuming bodyguard, became a lone hero, cutting through enemy ranks with the fugitive princess in tow. 

That’s right—he never even made it to the Fire Country’s capital. 

Fed up with being chased, he unleashed Hachimon Tonkō (Eight Gates), pummeling the enemy leader into the ground and obliterating the rebel forces with a single Morning Peacock. 

If not for his slightly rugged looks, goofy hairstyle, and green spandex dragging down his heroic vibe, the princess might’ve thrown herself at him.  

But no matter! 

The mission pay was maxed out, and he’d scored an unexpected bonus. 

Guy ran his hand over the black cloth wrapping his pole, its soft, smooth texture feeling almost finer than a maiden’s skin. This was “Black Orb,” a rare material made from special silkworms using a secret technique. Soft yet incredibly tough, it was stab-proof, fireproof, waterproof, breathable, and didn’t collect dust. 

Due to the scarcity of the silk and the lengthy production process, only a tiny amount was made each year. Nobles and royals across nations scrambled to buy it for inner armor, leaving almost none for the open market. On the black market, its price slightly exceeded its weight in gold. 

After defeating the rebels, the grateful princess gifted Guy the Black Orb—originally meant for the Fire Country’s daimyo to secure protection—as a thank-you. The cloth was for Hikari and Kakashi, but the pole inside, a spoil from the rebels, was even rarer. 

Imagining Hikari’s delight at the gift, Guy’s face broke into a fatherly smile. He was ready to regale his dear adopted daughter with tales of his thrilling adventures. Surely, bored out of her mind in the village, Hikari would gaze at him with admiration, blind or not. 

He patted his shiny watermelon-rind hair and strode through Konoha’s gates, brimming with anticipation. 

“Out you go!”  

No sooner had he entered than two sharp-eyed, unfamiliar ninja grabbed him and pushed him back out. 

“Name, origin, reason for leaving and entering the village,” they demanded. 

Stumbling back onto the dirt road, Guy blinked in confusion, pointing at the forehead protector on his head. “I’m a Konoha ninja!” 

“Sorry, the village is under lockdown. We’re strictly checking everyone coming and going. Please understand,” the two ninja said, their faces stern, legs tensed in a defensive stance, ready to fight. 

Even the thickheaded Guy realized something major had happened in the village during his month-long absence. 

After a moment, he showed his pass, verified his identity with the gate guards, and casually asked why the village was on lockdown. 

Then he was floored. 

“What?! The Uchiha, one of Konoha’s founding clans, was wiped out?” 

“Kumogakure sent ninja to attack the main gate, and Izumo Kamizuki and Kotetsu Hagane died?” 

“Miss Sawada Fuka was a Kumogakure spy?” 

“Hold on—what?! Hikari killed who?” 

Guy’s barrage of questions left him dazed. He understood every word, yet it felt like he’d been hit with a genjutsu.  

One of Konoha’s founding clans, the proud Uchiha, wiped out—by one of their own?! Kumogakure ninja stormed the village gate and sent elites to attack the ninja academy, trying to spark the Fourth Great Ninja War? And Hikari defeated a veteran Kumogakure Jōnin, becoming a genius surpassing Kakashi and rivaling the First Hokage? 

What was going on?! 

Registration complete, Guy bid farewell to the “delusional” gate guards, hefted his luggage, and walked through the gate in a daze. 

When Hachimon Tonkō was active, chakra and vitality surged uncontrollably, making it theoretically impossible for Guy to fall under genjutsu.  

If it wasn’t an illusion, then… was everything the guards said true? 

Unable to believe it, Guy scanned the streets. The people of Konoha moved calmly, kids played ball by the roadside—everything looked the same as a month ago, yet it felt oddly foreign.  

He’d been gone just over a month, but it felt like years. 

“Hey, isn’t that Guy?”  

Teacher Mitsuda, with his less-than-lush hair, was strolling down the street when he spotted Guy looking around like a first-time visitor. 

Taking in Guy’s travel-worn appearance, Mitsuda asked, “Just back from a mission?” 

Caught off guard by running into his old academy teacher, Guy’s muscle memory kicked in, and he nodded respectfully. “Yeah, just got back! Why aren’t you teaching at the academy?” 

“It’s the weekend!” 

Mitsuda smacked his lips enviously. Guy had barely qualified for the academy due to poor chakra control, but his grit earned the Third Hokage’s favor, bending the rules for his admission. His grades were a mess, yet within years, he’d risen to Jōnin through taijutsu alone. Now, he’d casually adopted a girl who turned out to be a once-in-a-century prodigy.  

How did all the good luck fall to this fool? 

“You raised a great daughter,” Mitsuda said, masking his jealousy. 

But Guy’s face darkened. Mitsuda’s words confirmed the gate guards’ story—Hikari really had faced a Kumogakure Jōnin! 

“Is Hikari okay? How bad are her injuries?” Guy clenched his fists, his rugged face etched with worry. 

He knew how strong Kumogakure’s elite Jōnin were, having fought in the war. Even if Hikari won, the cost must’ve been steep. Titles like “Konoha’s greatest genius” mattered less to him than her safety. 

Seeing Guy focus not on his daughter’s fame but her well-being, Mitsuda nodded inwardly. Not just dumb luck—good people get good rewards, huh? Hard to even be jealous of a guy like this. 

“I don’t know the details, but I heard she’s been discharged and isn’t in danger. She hasn’t been to school, though—probably still recovering at home,” Mitsuda said. 

Heart pounding, Guy thanked him and rushed toward the Hatake clan grounds, luggage in tow. 

Behind him, Mitsuda chuckled, shaking his head, and resumed his stroll, scanning the streets for a genius kid to adopt, hoping to replicate Guy’s luck. 

Hatake Clan Grounds 

“Cheers!” Clink! 

Two glasses of orange-yellow juice clinked lightly on the pale yellow tatami. Kakashi and Hikari sat cross-legged, toasting. Between them, a long brown table was laden with food. 

Gulping down her juice, Hikari’s appetite flared at the aroma of the meal. After devouring twenty-four bowls of ramen at Ichiraku, Kakashi had refused to take her out to eat again. Today’s spread was his handiwork. 

Having lived alone since childhood, Kakashi had honed impressive cooking skills. Since Hikari didn’t want to be gawked at like a zoo animal and found his food decent, she agreed to eat at home. 

Two weeks flew by. 

That morning, Kakashi’s shadow clone reported the mission’s end. Hikari guessed Sarutobi Hiruzen had verified her identity. To celebrate, Kakashi prepared a lavish lunch for them to share. 

Hikari happily agreed. 

Thanks to Kakashi’s cooking and their shared love of books, they’d gotten along decently—though “decently” was a stretch. Sarutobi’s orders meant Kakashi had to protect (and monitor) her 24/7, like a bodyguard for a school idol. Except for bathroom breaks, he was glued to her side. 

In the two weeks since her discharge, Hikari hadn’t found a chance to experiment with her Shikotsumyaku (Dead Bone Pulse). It was driving her nuts. 

But she hadn’t been idle. The Yin and Yang technique scrolls from her friends were practically falling apart from use. The insights were beyond her expectations. 

The mysterious veil of Yin and Yang techniques was finally lifting. 

Yin-ton, born from spiritual energy governing imagination, creates form from nothingness. Yang-ton, born from physical energy tied to vitality, gives life to form. 

The original Naruto series described Yin and Yang techniques in just those vague, lofty lines. The scrolls, however, were far more detailed, offering Hikari a glimpse into chakra’s ultimate secrets. 

In the shinobi world, everyone harbored a force called “life.” Invisible and intangible, it determined one’s potential—talent, lifespan, chakra reserves, recovery, healing, and resilience.  

Yin and Yang techniques were unique chakra nature transformations designed to break the limits of this life force. Life force was split into two categories: Yin power, stored in the soul, and Yang power, stored in the body. 

The Pure Land of the shinobi world gathered the souls of those whose Yang power was depleted or whose bodies were destroyed, yet whose Yin power lingered, keeping their souls intact. 

From her academy lessons, Hikari knew chakra was born from blending spiritual and physical energy, nurtured by the “chakra seed” within, which then fed back to the body. Spiritual energy came from the soul absorbing nutrients, while physical energy came from the body. 

Clever ninja devised a formula: life force splits into Yin and Yang, its origins unknown. The soul, sustained by Yin power, produced spiritual energy; the body, fueled by Yang power, produced physical energy. Stronger life force meant more energy, leading to greater growth and more robust chakra. 

It was a chain reaction. 

Understanding this, ancient ninja got creative. If life force limited lifespan and chakra, could they control or replenish it? Since chakra was a versatile force, some wondered: if chakra could mimic elements like wind or water, why not life force? 

This sparked genius ideas, birthing Yin and Yang techniques. 

By mimicking Yin and Yang power, chakra could transform into Yin or Yang chakra. But there were limits—water chakra wasn’t true water, and Yin-Yang chakra wasn’t true Yin or Yang power. 

Ninja aiming to transcend life’s limits failed, but their Yin-Yang techniques spread, spawning secret clans like the Yamanaka, Nara, Akimichi, and Aburame. Overusing Yin-Yang chakra even altered their descendants’ chakra seeds, embedding related powers. 

Generations later, their techniques and physiques neared Kekkei Genkai status. In a few decades or centuries, ninja might be born who could control shadows or enter minds without hand signs. 

Beyond the overview, the scrolls detailed methods to condense Yin and Yang chakra. Each of the five scrolls offered unique yet similar approaches, though key parts were incomplete to protect clan secrets. 

Hikari was still sorting through them. 

Tap, tap, tap. 

As she savored the food and pondered Yin-Yang training, hurried footsteps echoed outside. 

Chapter 97: Heavy Stone Crystal 

In an instant. 

The sound of footsteps grew closer from afar. 

Before the two could react, the uninvited guest had already crossed the Hatake clan grounds, nearing the door. 

Such incredible speed! 

Kakashi’s lazy gaze sharpened instantly. He set down his chopsticks and drew a kunai from his lower back. 

“It’s Gai coming back,” Hikari said calmly, waving a hand at Kakashi, her Byakugan already activated. 

Knowing Hikari’s sensory abilities, Kakashi’s eyes returned to their usual relaxed state. He sat back on the tatami, resuming his half-dead demeanor. 

Whoosh! The door slid open. 

Carrying a staff and luggage, Might Gai burst in, panting heavily. 

“Hikari, I heard you were inju—injured—” 

Gai’s voice cut off abruptly. 

His thick eyebrows twitched. 

The scene before him was nothing like what he’d imagined—no Hikari wrapped in bandages, lying on the verge of death. 

Instead, Kakashi and Hikari, dressed in loose casual clothes, sat cross-legged on the floor. A spread of food and drinks lay before them, and they clinked cups in a carefree toast. 

Seeing Gai barge in, the two shinobi—who together barely had a pair of functioning eyes—turned their heads in sync. One with long silver-gray hair, the other short; one tall and broad, the other small and slight. Even the black masks on their faces seemed to match perfectly. 

Gai glanced down at his travel-worn self, then back at the two effortlessly charming figures before him. He suddenly felt like he didn’t belong. 

“You guys… what’s all this?” Gai’s hands flailed in circles, his words stumbling. 

After being away for over a month, his best friend and daughter not only didn’t seem to miss him but were living even more comfortably than when he was home. 

Seeing him return so suddenly, they showed neither surprise nor joy, as if he were just a random stranger who’d wandered in. 

With only one visible eye between them, Gai saw nothing in their gazes but a dead-fish calm, mirroring the awkward atmosphere. 

Pop, pop, pop… 

Emotional bubbles seemed to ripple through the air. The orange juice in Hikari’s mouth suddenly tasted sour. 

“Welcome home, Gai,” Hikari said, tilting her head with a warm smile, arms spread wide in greeting. 

The sight of his adorable daughter welcoming him melted Gai’s heart. The emotional bubbles above his head shifted back to a joyful orange, and his drooping, sorrowful brows perked up again. 

“Heh heh! Hikari, I heard you were attacked by foreign shinobi and badly injured, so I rushed back—” Gai began. 

“I’m fine now, don’t worry,” Hikari reassured. 

“That’s… that’s great!” Gai’s signature gleaming grin returned, his energy fully restored. 

Kakashi watched Gai, who’d been cheered up in seconds, and shook his head with a sigh, downing his orange juice in one gulp. 

This girl had some kind of magic touch. 

She seemed cold and unapproachable at first, but somehow, she always lifted your mood. Every word, every gesture hit just the right spot. 

When you were down, she’d sense it instantly and avoid pushing your buttons. When you were in high spirits, she’d tease just enough to keep things fun without crossing the line, leaving you happily at her mercy. 

Kakashi didn’t consider himself particularly easy to get along with. Yet, after just half a month of living together—barely exchanging a few words—his fondness for Hikari kept growing. 

It wasn’t love or anything like that, just a quiet sense of comfort. Being around her felt relaxing, pleasant, free of offense or negativity. 

Even Gai hadn’t tasted the meals Kakashi cooked, but these past few days, Hikari had nearly grown tired of them. If it weren’t for his Sharingan, Kakashi might’ve suspected he was under some unknown genjutsu. 

“Dang dang dang! Look what I brought you!” Gai exclaimed. 

In a few words, Gai’s negativity vanished completely. He eagerly pulled out gifts for Kakashi and Hikari from his luggage. 

A bundle of black cloth. 

“What’s this?” Hikari asked, gently touching the fabric. It felt smooth and delicate, its surface a pure, unblemished black. 

“Is this… Black Orb cloth?” Kakashi asked, eyeing the material with disbelief, his surprise evident. 

“What’s it do?” Hikari asked, puzzled. She didn’t recall anything about this in the original story. 

“Legend says it’s stab-proof and fire-resistant, worth more than gold. A piece this big is probably worth tens of millions,” Kakashi said, marveling. 

“Not bad, then!” Hikari said lightly. 

Gai gave an awkward chuckle, staying quiet. 

“The thing is, it’s incredibly rare. They say it’s only produced in the distant Black Orb Kingdom, and even if you have the money, there’s no way to buy it. How’d you get a piece this big?” Kakashi asked, picking up the Black Orb cloth and turning to Gai. 

Gai, ready for the question, grinned and launched into a lively recount of his extraordinary escort mission, eagerly awaiting their reactions. 

“Oh,” Kakashi replied, his dead-fish eyes unchanged, his expression flat. 

Gai’s tale reminded Kakashi of a snowy land from long ago. He wondered if Yukie was still alive after all these years. 

“I see,” Hikari said, nodding calmly. 

In the original story, Naruto’s missions saved countless nations, even sealing away world-threatening demons a couple of times. No matter how absurd a mission was in Konoha, it didn’t faze her. 

“Aren’t you guys shocked?” Gai asked, feeling like his passion had been poured onto a glacier, his whole body stiffening. 

“Very shocking,” they said in unison. 

“Liars!!!” Gai clutched his watermelon-rind head, jumping in frustration. 

Hikari glanced at the negative emotions swirling above Gai’s head. Seeing he wasn’t truly upset, she ignored his antics and turned her attention to the staff wrapped in Black Orb cloth. 

Black Orb cloth might be fire- and stab-proof, but it wasn’t Byakugan-proof. 

With a slight focus of her Byakugan, gray chakra pulsed from her pupils, easily piercing the cloth. 

It was… a black fire-poking stick? 

Hikari froze, expecting some hidden treasure. She doubled down, observing more closely. 

A stick wrapped in such precious cloth had to be valuable. Its plain appearance only made it more intriguing—it likely had significant practical use. 

The veins around her eyes bulged as chakra surged. 

The stick’s ashy black exterior peeled away under her gaze, revealing a brownish-yellow crystal beneath. The crystal was cloudy, filled with fibrous impurities, neither translucent nor beautiful, with a slightly dirty texture. 

Under her Byakugan’s magnification, the crystal’s internal fibers wove into a strange hexagonal lattice—solid and dense. 

That was the impression the crystal gave her. Beyond that, she sensed no chakra fluctuations whatsoever. 

Then, Kakashi noticed the staff’s oddity. “What’s that stick?” 

“That’s the Heavy Stone Crystal, my prize!” Gai said, his tone growing serious. He picked up the staff, unwrapping the Black Orb cloth to reveal the fire-poker-like crystal. 

Kakashi, no stranger to rare items, saw Gai’s attachment and knew it wasn’t ordinary. He flipped up his Konoha headband, revealing the Sharingan in his scarred eye, its three tomoe spinning. 

But the first thing he saw wasn’t the “Heavy Stone” Gai mentioned—it was a purple glow across from him. 

Hikari’s small figure sat on the tatami, her heart’s chakra core glowing like a misty sunset, shrouded in a faint purple haze. 

Wasn’t her chakra supposed to be a deep ocean blue? 

Kakashi’s eyes flickered. He’d never heard of someone’s chakra color changing. Then again, he’d never heard of a six-year-old elite Jōnin either. Maybe this was just a genius thing? 

Filing it away mentally, he turned his attention to the stick Gai called the “Heavy Stone Crystal.” 

“Don’t bother. No chakra response, and it’s not a chakra-conducting metal,” Gai said, finally feeling some attention. He twirled the staff a few times, then gathered chakra in his palm and injected it into the crystal. 

In an instant, both Hikari and Kakashi saw the previously inert stick glow with a brownish aura. 

Gai’s arm sank under the weight, his forearm muscles tensing, stretching his green spandex suit. 

“It got heavier?” Kakashi asked, his Sharingan’s tomoe nearly forming a ring. 

While Kakashi focused on the surface, Hikari’s Byakugan saw deeper. The moment Gai’s blue chakra entered the crystal, she saw a brownish energy inside stir, blending into a muddy hue through some unknown process, resulting in the increased weight Kakashi observed. 

“This is the Heavy Stone Crystal. As you saw, infusing chakra makes it heavier,” Gai said, demonstrating by injecting more chakra. The brownish-yellow glow intensified, and he hoisted the staff onto his shoulder. “The more chakra you pour in, the heavier it gets, and the longer it stays heavy. The rebel leader used this to defeat the king’s guard captain. With this, I’ll never need gym equipment again!” 

“What’s the max weight?” Kakashi asked. 

“Right now, about 400-500 pounds. The limit’s probably a few tons!” Gai said, joyfully swinging the staff, the heavy crystal whistling through the air. 

Hikari and Kakashi lost interest simultaneously. 

Sure, heavier weapons meant more power, but overly heavy ones threw off balance, requiring the wielder’s body to compensate. 

Kakashi excelled in close-quarters combat with a short blade, favoring agility. The staff was too heavy for him. 

Hikari, a hand-to-hand specialist with a balanced offense-defense-agility build, had her Kaguya clan’s Shikotsumyaku as her ultimate weapon. She didn’t need it either. 

“Interesting concept, but pretty useless in practice,” a raspy voice said from the doorway. 

The three froze, turning toward the sound. 

Gai hadn’t closed the door. Outside, a thin elderly man in a Hokage robe and hat stepped inside. 

“Third Hokage!” Kakashi and Gai shot to their feet, saluting. Hikari set down her chopsticks and stood, showing respect. 

After all, this was her future teacher, and she valued propriety. 

“Sit, sit, no need to be so formal,” Sarutobi Hiruzen said with a chuckle, patting Kakashi and Gai’s shoulders. His gaze settled on the Heavy Stone Crystal on Gai’s shoulder. “Let me see what rare thing you brought back!” 

Gai carefully handed the staff to Hiruzen. “Be careful, sir.” 

“Hmph!” Hiruzen’s aged, spotted hand gripped the 400-500-pound staff without a tremble. 

Boom! Chakra erupted from his palm, surging into the crystal. 

Buzz! The staff hummed strangely, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of chakra. The brownish glow couldn’t keep up, reaching its limit no matter how much more Hiruzen poured in. 

Seeing the weight stop increasing, Hiruzen’s expression darkened. His arm muscles bulged unnaturally, and with a fierce swing, he slammed the staff downward. 

Whoosh! The air roared. 

Hikari’s eyes twitched. A maxed-out Heavy Stone Crystal swung by a Kage-level ninja like Hiruzen? Forget the rest—this house was done for. 

The three instinctively stepped back. 

Whoosh! The devastating strike they expected never came. 

Just before the staff hit the floor, Hiruzen’s biceps swelled like basketballs. The destructive force capable of leveling the house dissipated in his arms. 

Thud! The staff’s edge tapped the floor, sounding like a chair leg brushing the ground. 

Lifting the heavy as if it were light! 

Kakashi and Gai’s eyes widened, feeling the overwhelming pressure even without facing it directly. 

As expected of the Third Hokage. 

Hikari, observing with her Byakugan, was deeply shaken. Hiruzen looked frail, like an old ape wielding a stick, but his domineering chakra and physical strength were undeniable. 

His chakra infused his muscles, wielding the tons-heavy staff like a toothpick. Hikari could manage a few tons by pushing her muscles to the limit, but not with such effortless control. 

Moreover, as he infused chakra into the staff, he simultaneously spread chakra across the floor, distributing the massive force to protect it. To exert such power while still safeguarding the surroundings—Hiruzen’s true strength was terrifying. 

No wonder he could knock the Nine-Tails out of Konoha with a single strike. His taijutsu prowess was monstrous. 

Hikari shook her head in awe. 

This was six years before the Chūnin Exams, and Hiruzen wasn’t as aged as in the original story. Excluding the overpowered outliers, he was absolutely at the pinnacle of the ninja world. Even with his body starting to decline, he far surpassed the Yozuki Yū, whom Hikari had killed. 

She was certain: Yozuki Yū, who’d once pushed her to the brink with his lightning speed, wouldn’t last three moves against Hiruzen before being pummeled into paste. 

And she’d fare no better. 

The gap between an elite Jōnin and a Kage was even wider than she’d imagined. 

“Light but not light enough, heavy but not heavy enough. A toy,” Hiruzen said, shaking his head in disappointment. He handed the staff back to a flustered Gai, his gaze shifting past Kakashi and Gai to Hikari. “Now, to business. I’ve looked into your situation. When are you ready to take me as your master?” 

The room fell silent. 

“?” Two massive question marks popped up above Kakashi and Gai’s heads, followed by a torrent of rainbow-like emotional sparks. 

Blocking out the emotional flurry, Hikari said helplessly, “Didn’t you say to keep it a secret?” 

“They’re fine,” Hiruzen replied. 

“In that case, no time like the present. Today works. Do I need to prepare a master-disciple ceremony or anything?” Hikari asked. 

“Up to you,” Hiruzen said. 

Ignoring the stunned duo, the old man and young girl continued their conversation as if no one else was there.