68-69

Chapter 68: A Letter from Kumogakure  

That night.  

The cheerful team assignments came to an end.  

With an odd number of students, the class couldn’t form full three-man squads—leaving Naruto and Hikari as a duo.  

Naruto was thrilled, grinning so wide he might as well have been impersonating Might Guy.  

Hikari, however, watched Sasuke’s retreating figure with a quiet heaviness in her chest.  

"People’s joys and sorrows are never truly shared."  

After tonight, that prideful boy would die.  

What remained would only be a hollow avenger.  

The memory stirred something in her.  

A rebellion. A massacre. Just like the Kaguya clan—once vast, now reduced to her and Kimimaro.  

"How similar fate can be."  

She returned to the Hatake compound in silence, lying on her bed, waiting for it all to end.  

Dawn approached.  

Only when her Byakugan caught sight of Kakashi dragging himself home did she finally close her eyes.  

Konoha had won. No surprises.  

With the Uchiha gone, the village would enter an era of peace—and her path to growing stronger would face no more disruptions.  

"If only I were strong enough… none of this would’ve happened."  

Her consciousness blurred.  

In her dreams, she stood once more on that battlefield where she’d first awakened.  

Severed limbs. Blood-soaked earth.  

Her father, split in two, crawling forward in agony.  

She couldn’t tell—was this her past life, or this one?  

Scratch!  

The pen tip dug into the paper, leaving a jagged mark.  

Sawada Fūka’s hand trembled, her forehead slick with sweat.  

The intelligence she was transcribing could shake the world:  

The Uchiha—the legendary clan that had once pacified the warring era alongside the Senju—had been exterminated.  

Only one survivor: a boy named Sasuke.  

She’d suspected something when ANBU surrounded the district, but she never imagined Konoha would act so swiftly.  

In less than an hour, the "strongest clan in Konoha" was erased.  

"Invincible Sharingan? Elite three-tomoe users?"  

"None of it mattered against sheer numbers."  

Dozens of chūnin and jōnin, coordinating seamlessly—water jutsu to suppress, genjutsu to disorient, sealing arts to immobilize, weapons striking from blind spots.  

One misstep, and the Uchiha were buried under an avalanche of secret techniques, clan arts, and obscure ninjutsu they’d never even heard of.  

"Battle IQ? Tactical analysis?"  

Try analyzing a hundred different jutsu hurled at you at once.  

A few Uchiha jōnin, screaming defiance, attempted to fight back.  

They lasted seven seconds.  

Then they were on their knees, limbs shattered, chakra drained by some unknown technique.  

A wire looped around their necks—yank—heads rolled.  

Fresh corpses were picked clean by specialists harvesting Sharingan eyes.  

Two Uchiha, overcome by grief, began glowing—likely preparing a last-ditch technique.  

But before they could move, sensor-nin detected the chakra surge.  

A single order.  

A deluge of sealing tags smothered them, script covering their bodies like some macabre novel.  

Then—silence.  

Konoha’s ANBU were so efficient they cleaned up as they slaughtered. By the time the massacre ended, every Sharingan had been cataloged:  

• One- and two-tomoe eyes stored in jars.  

• Three-tomoe eyes individually sealed in scrolls. 

The mighty Uchiha, butchered like livestock.  

Not even a chance to trade lives.  

Two ANBU took heavy injuries—only to be swarmed by medics and patched up mid-battle.  

"This… is the power of a hidden village."  

Fūka shuddered, even secondhand. The age of clans ruling the battlefield was over.  

Uchiha. Senju. Uzumaki. All the same.  

She tucked the report into a hollow pen.  

Her two swallows, sent to Kumogakure days ago, still hadn’t returned. They should’ve been back by now.  

"What’s taking so long?"  

Her stomach churned. The first report was one thing, but the intel on Hikari—her real mission—couldn’t afford delays.  

Would Kumo even act on such a speculative lead?  

Just as doubt crept in—  

Tap. Tap. Tap.  

The kitchen window rattled.  

"The signal!"  

Her swallow was back!  

Fūka rushed over, flinging the window open. The bird hopped inside, a tiny scroll tied to its leg.  

She fed it, then unrolled the message.  

Inside:  

• A letter.  

• A photo.  

• A bone whistle. 

She grabbed the photo first.  

A cave. Four Kumo-nin surrounded a towering orange-haired boy.  

"Jūgo!"  

The one who’d destroyed her hometown.  

"Kumo caught him?!"  

Heart pounding, she decoded the letter.  

The first section made her giddy:  

• Praise for her espionage.  

• Promises of wealth, the title of "Hero," and public execution of Jūgo if she delivered the Byakugan wielder alive.  

• Even her children would be taught the Raikage’s Lightning Armor. 

She skimmed the rest. All she wanted was revenge and a quiet life.  

The next part was blunt:  

• A team was en route via "Elephant Bird"—ETA two days.  

• Locate the Byakugan wielder and the Nine-Tails jinchūriki. If together, perfect.  

• Lay the scroll on the ground, activate it with blood.  

• Upon capture, blow the whistle. Escape on the bird. 

"Elephant Birds?"  

Giant avians native to Kumo’s mountains—700 kilograms, capable of carrying multiple riders.  

"A direct aerial snatch-and-grab?!"  

Risky. Very Kumo.  

But then—  

Her spy-sparrows’ latest report flashed in her mind:  

"The Academy’s survival exercise. Four days. Remote location. Minimal guards."  

Naruto and Hikari would be together.  

The perfect opportunity.  

(•̀ᴗ•́)و 

Chapter 69: Fishing  

The next day.  

News of the Uchiha clan's massacre spread instantly throughout Konoha, then rapidly across the entire shinobi world. Nothing could top the sheer shock of this revelation.  

Every villager—young and old—was caught up in heated discussions about the incident. No matter where she went, Hikari overheard whispers and rumors about the Uchiha.  

It was said that the Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, had personally presided over a memorial for the fallen clan. In his speech, he declared:  

"Uchiha Itachi, the so-called genius of the Uchiha, slaughtered his entire family and defected from Konoha. He is the sole perpetrator of this atrocity."  

He emphasized that the Uchiha had co-founded Konoha alongside the Senju, contributing greatly to the village’s establishment and military achievements. Yet now, they had met such a tragic end.  

Expressing deep regret, Hiruzen vowed that Konoha would never tolerate such monstrous acts—especially the slaughter of one’s own kin. Itachi was branded an S-rank rogue ninja, and the village swore to bring him to justice.  

Of course, all blame was conveniently pinned on Itachi alone. The truth of the Uchiha’s planned coup was buried. No one dared question how a single shinobi could wipe out an entire clan overnight without detection.  

But this was the best possible outcome.  

The Uchiha’s legacy as village founders remained intact. Konoha itself avoided the stain of exterminating one of its noble clans. The "invincible" Uchiha had fallen—not to an enemy, but to one of their own. In a twisted way, it preserved their final shred of pride.  

The once-bustling Uchiha district now lay silent, filled only with hundreds of corpses—their eyes forever wide in death. The sole survivor? A broken boy.  

Sasuke had been hospitalized.  

Reportedly, the trauma had left him mentally shattered, unable to attend the Academy for the time being.  

Meanwhile, the school’s survival training exercise continued—but with a key change.  

What was originally a casual camping trip had now become a true survival test, closer to a formal exam.  

With the Uchiha "threat" gone, life in Konoha seemed to return to normal.  

Flutter…  

A pale-gray swallow swooped over Hikari’s head. Nearby, a fat rat darted into its burrow, leaving only its hind legs kicking dirt behind.  

A cold glint flashed through Hikari’s Byakugan.  

Something’s off with these animals.  

For days, she’d split her time between attending the Academy and locking herself at home, searching for the source of that eerie, lingering sensation of being watched.  

But she’d found nothing—until this morning.  

As she opened her door, she spotted sparrows perched on the fence. A sudden realization struck her.  

Every time I leave the house… there’s always some small animal watching.  

Sometimes swallows. Sometimes sparrows. Once, even a black-striped chipmunk clutching a pinecone.  

Once or twice could be coincidence. But every single time? That was deliberate.  

Someone’s using these creatures to spy on me.  

Their motives were unclear. Perhaps her Gentle Fist training in the Forest of Death—where wildlife roamed freely—had drawn unwanted attention.  

After school, Hikari walked home, her backpack slung over her shoulder.  

She glanced up at the sparrow perched on her roof again, narrowed her eyes, then pretended not to notice as she stepped inside.  

Once indoors, she activated her Byakugan, tracking the bird’s movements. It chirped nervously, fluttered to her window, and peered inside with bulging eyes.  

Through the glass, their gazes met—white eyes locking onto beady black ones.  

So this is the source of the surveillance.  

But that only deepened the mystery.  

No chakra. At all.  

No matter how many times she scanned it, the bird showed zero traces of chakra manipulation. Aside from its odd behavior, it was just a normal animal.  

A technique that controls creatures without chakra?  

…Unbelievable.  

Hikari shook her head. The shinobi world was full of bizarre jutsu, but chakra was always the foundation. Her Byakugan’s ability to see chakra had given her an unshakable advantage in intelligence-gathering—so much so that she’d grown dependent on it.  

Not that she could blame herself.  

The Byakugan was too useful.  

Activate it, and everything became clear. Anything with chakra demanded caution; anything without could be ignored.  

If not for these animal spies, she might never have realized this critical weakness in her approach.  

A chilling thought struck her:  

What if, in battle, an enemy used a technique my Byakugan couldn’t detect?  

Even Kaguya Ōtsutsuki had fallen to Naruto’s Reverse Harem Jutsu. If a goddess could be caught off-guard, so could she.  

Knock-knock—  

Hikari strode to the window. The sparrow flapped away in panic as she yanked the curtains shut.  

She didn’t know the stalker’s motives.  

But it definitely wasn’t an admirer—nor was it ANBU or ROOT. Otherwise, the Third Hokage or Danzō would’ve already summoned her.  

An enemy, then.  

And a troublesome one.  

Without chakra signatures to track, her Byakugan was useless here. No matter how much she racked her brain, she couldn’t devise a foolproof counter.  

Her only option? Lure them out.  

Bait them into making a move, then exploit their mistake.  

In terms of combat ability, she wasn’t worried.  

With the Eight Gates, even if she couldn’t defeat an elite jōnin, escaping was more than feasible.  

An opponent at Kage-level?  

Unlikely.  

True Kage-tier shinobi were rare—each one a legendary figure from a major village. If her stalker had that kind of power, they would’ve attacked her in the Forest of Death already. No need for stealth.  

Having reasoned this far, Hikari concluded the risk was manageable.  

Time to go fishing.  

For four days, she played the game.  

She deliberately trained in the Forest of Death, then used her Shikotsumyaku to fake exhaustion—even pretending to collapse from injury.  

Yet the enemy never took the bait.  

Two possibilities:  

• They’re too cautious (or too weak). Even if she seemed vulnerable, they didn’t dare strike.  

• The surveillance isn’t real-time. They might not have known her condition at the time. 

Or perhaps both.  

Her stalker might be weaker than expected—lacking both strength and real-time intel.  

Without a face-to-face encounter, she’d already deduced much about them.  

But for now, the fishing plan had failed.  

With no better options, Hikari settled in for a war of attrition.  

Soon, Friday arrived.  

Hikari stood with her classmates at the north gate of Training Ground Zero, ready to begin the three-day survival exercise.