Chapter 13: Departure

Dawn.

Hazy clouds clung to Kirigakure’s mountain peaks.

Walking through the village streets, Hikari felt as if she were drifting through the sky—her vision blurred, like looking through fogged-up glasses with a weak prescription.

The downpour from last night had only stopped in the early hours, yet by morning, the streets held little standing water. Only the uneven depressions in the road still cradled murky puddles.

Tap-tap. Splash.

Her cane rhythmically struck the ground, occasionally sloshing through wet patches. Her fawn-brown boots, delicate as a deer’s hooves, stepped on loose paving stones, squeezing grimy water from the cracks.

Tap… tap. Stop.

The cane halted.

Hikari stood before Kirigakure’s gates, her right hand gripping the cane, her left supported by Dōzan Karin. Behind them, the bodyguards—Okamura Shin and Ōma Shin—loomed like shadows.

In the distance, barely visible through the mist, Kaguya Hikari was negotiating with the ANBU gatekeepers.

“Do you know who Hikari-sensei’s brother is?”

Hikari felt Karin lean in, whispering conspiratorially. Girls could bond strangely—sometimes a single meeting was enough to make them cling like lifelong friends.

(Of course, that same bond could just as easily shatter over something trivial.)

“Who?”

“Kaguya Shun. The ANBU Commander—known as ‘Fang.’”

Shin couldn’t resist interjecting, raising his hands dramatically. “You might not realize how big a deal that is, Hikari! The ANBU Commander answers only to the Mizukage. One step below the top, ten thousand steps above the rest!”

“You forgot Elder Mitsuki,” Ōma muttered, earning a glare from Shin.

So that’s it.

Kaguya Hikari was the sister of Fang himself—no wonder the ANBU treated her with such deference. Even from here, Hikari could hear their respectful greetings.

But… Fang. The name tickled her memory.

A moment’s search through her mind dredged up the scene:

—A pitch-black night.

—A forest turned slaughterhouse, blood mingling with mist.

—A brown-haired, blue-eyed ANBU Commander radiating terror, leading a charge. Twin blades flashed, bisecting a man wearing the Shigure clan crest in a single stroke.

That man had been called Fang.

And the one he’d cut down—silver-haired, stern-faced, towering—was Hikari’s own father.

…

“We’re clear.”

Hikari returned the trio’s registered ninja Ids. Karin released Hikari’s arm to tuck hers neatly into her inner pocket.

“Hikari, since you lack identification, you’ll need an extra inspection.”

Noticing Hikari’s tense expression, Hikari assumed it was nerves and ruffled her hair reassuringly. “Don’t worry. It’s just procedure.”

“Mm.”

Hikari nodded, unsure how to face the sister of her father’s killer.

She wasn’t some detached transmigrator. She’d been reborn here—her soul retaining memories after breaking through the “barrier of birth.” That’s why she’d adapted so quickly to this brutal shinobi world.

Six years of this life might pale against thirty-plus from her past, but its weight still pulled at her.

Flashes of memory:

—Her mother, eyes gouged out, teaching her to awaken the Byakugan.

—Her father, silent but relentless, drilling her in taijutsu.

Their deaths overlapped with her past-life parents, lost in an earthquake.

Unaware, Hikari led Hikari to the gate, where a crow-masked ANBU waited. She scowled. “Get on with it.”

The ANBU—Karasu—ignored her tone. His orders had been clear: Don’t provoke, don’t obstruct, but never let the killer of [redacted] slip through.

“Little miss, may I have your hand?”

Even muffled by the mask, his voice dripped with false cheer.

Hikari’s mind raced.

Total darkness.

Konoha had chakra-detecting barriers in the manga—did Kirigakure?

Preemptively, while waiting earlier, she’d halted her chakra circulatory system, locking physical and mental energy in their respective “dantians” to prevent fusion. Only the Byakugan’s precision and the Shikotsumyaku’s bodily control made this possible.

She extended her hand.

Flash—!

A kunai flicked out.

“Ah—!”

Hikari jerked back, fingertip stinging. Though she lacked chakra, the Shikotsumyaku’s passive regeneration was already sealing the cut.

“What the hell?!”

Hikari shoved Hikari behind her, glaring at Karasu’s bloodied kunai.

“Easy, easy! Standard protocol.”

The trio instantly closed ranks around Hikari. Shin and Ōma flanked her while Karin pressed gauze to her finger.

“The shinobi world’s full of tricks,” Karasu crooned, hands raised. “Spies use transformation jutsu indistinguishable from the real thing, or chakra-suppression seals. Normal checks won’t cut it.”

A boar-masked ANBU—Inugami—grunted, “Even the best henge relies on chakra. Disrupt it, and the disguise fails.”

Hikari’s glare softened slightly—but seeing Hikari’s pained expression reignited her disgust.

Meanwhile, Hikari squeezed her wounded finger, thumbnail digging into the nearly healed cut. The sharp pain helped focus.

No chakra means no Byakugan-enhanced control.

Without it, she couldn’t fully suppress the Shikotsumyaku’s regeneration. Thankfully, the lack of chakra slowed it naturally.

“Transformation check complete. Now for the real test.”

Karasu handed the bloody kunai to Inugami and formed a seal, stepping closer. Behind the absurd crow mask, his voice turned razor-edged:

“I’m a jumpy man, little miss.

If you make any… questionable moves, give me warning.

Or things might get ugly.”

(•̀ᴗ•́)و