“What do you mean there’s no one available?!”

The voice, rough from cheap sake and thick with a frustration that vibrated in the air, made several of the shinobi waiting in the mission assignment office turn their heads. The man who had shouted was burly, with a worker’s calloused hands and a desperate look that didn’t fit the bureaucratic atmosphere of the Hokage Tower. His name was Tazuna, and his patience had run out three cups of sake and half an hour of waiting ago.

The chūnin behind the counter, a young man named Kotetsu with a perpetual adhesive bandage over his nose, didn’t even look up from his scroll.

“Sir, as I’ve already explained for the third time, I must ask you to lower your voice. I didn’t say there’s no one. I said there are no teams available for an off-village escort mission at this time.”

“I paid for a C-Rank mission, not an excuse!” Tazuna insisted, slamming his palm on the counter. The dull thud finally made Kotetsu look up, his eyes filled with an infinite weariness. “The road to the Land of Waves is crawling with bandits and thugs! An old bridge builder like me is an easy target! I need to get home to start an important job!”

Kotetsu sighed, the sound of a man who had had the same conversation a hundred times that day.

“Sir, I perfectly understand your situation. However, the protocol is clear. The latest Academy class has just graduated. All the newly formed genin teams, which are the ones that normally handle C-Rank missions, are currently assigned to local evaluation missions within the village. It’s a standard procedure to calibrate their skills and teamwork in a controlled environment.”

As the chūnin spoke, his voice a monotonous drone of rules and procedures, Tazuna’s mind was a storm. Protocol… These ninja and their stupid rules! he thought, a cold sweat running down his back despite the heat of the office. They don’t get it. They aren’t just “bandits.” They’re Gato’s men. They’re assassins. Every day they keep me here, trapped in their bureaucracy, is another day my people suffer. Inari… Tsunami… Every day, Gato gets stronger. I don’t have time for their paperwork.

“It’s for your own safety and ours, sir,” Kotetsu continued, oblivious to the silent agony of the man before him. “We can’t send an untested team on a mission outside the village, no matter how simple it may seem. It would be irresponsible.”

“What’s irresponsible is letting a tax-paying citizen get mugged on the road!” Tazuna roared, his frustration boiling over again.

Kotetsu remained unfazed. He picked up a new scroll and a quill.

“What I can do for you is put you on the waiting list. You’re first in line for a C-Rank escort mission. As soon as one of the jōnin teams evaluates their genin and deems them fit for external missions, one will be assigned to you immediately. It could be tomorrow, or maybe in a few days. We’ll send you a notification.”

A few days… the phrase thundered in Tazuna’s mind like a death sentence. In a few days, there might not be a bridge to build. There might not be a home to return to.

Seeing the defeated look on Tazuna’s face, Kotetsu felt a pang of pity.

“Look, it’s the best time of year to visit the hot springs. Why don’t you take a few days off? Enjoy Konoha’s hospitality.”

Tazuna let out a dry, joyless laugh. “Rest? Kid, I haven’t rested in over a year. I won’t rest until my work is done.”

He clenched his fists in defeat. He knew arguing was pointless. These desk-job shinobi didn’t understand deadlines or tyrants. They only understood rules.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Put me on your stupid list. But you’d better be quick about it.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and strode out of the tower, leaving the smell of sake and desperation in his wake. Kotetsu sighed, stamped a seal on a scroll, and yelled, “Next!” without giving the troublesome old bridge builder a second thought.

*****

The main dojo of the Hyuga clan was a masterpiece of silence and symmetry. The cypress wood floor, polished for generations until it reflected light like a dark mirror, smelled of wax and discipline. The shōji paper doors, with delicate paintings of cranes in flight, filtered the sunlight, creating a serene and timeless atmosphere. It was a beautiful cage.

In the center of that cage, Hinata moved.

This wasn’t the clumsy, hesitant training from before. This was a dance. Her body, imbued with the new energy vibrating under her skin, flowed through the Gentle Fist katas with a grace and speed she had never before possessed. Every turn was precise, every palm strike cut the air with a silent whisper. The power of the Falna had not only increased her strength and agility; it had given her a control over her body that felt instinctive, natural.

As she practiced, her mind was far away. It was at a ramen stand, listening to Naruto’s laugh. It was in his apartment, feeling the warmth of his gratitude. It was on a bridge, waiting for a photo that was a promise. I have to get stronger, she thought with every movement. So he can trust me. To be someone worthy of standing by his side.

She didn’t notice his presence until he spoke.

“You’ve improved, Hinata-sama.”

The voice, cold and laden with a quiet arrogance, made her stop in her tracks. Neji Hyuga was standing at the dojo’s entrance, watching her. She didn’t know how long he’d been there. His expression was unreadable, but his white eyes analyzed her with an intensity that made her feel naked.

“Neji-niisan,” she said, bowing out of pure instinct.

“I’ve heard the rumors,” he continued, stepping into the dojo, his footsteps silent on the wood. “They say you surprised your new team. They say Kurenai-sensei looks upon you favorably.” He stopped a few feet from her. “It seems your… friend… has infected you with some of his useless determination.”

The way he said the word “friend” was like an insult.

“Naruto-kun has taught me that effort can change things,” Hinata replied, her voice firmer than she felt.

Neji let out a short, humorless laugh.

“Effort. What a simple concept. Allow me to measure your ‘progress,’ Hinata-sama. A training match.”

It wasn’t a request. It was an order. Hinata nodded, her heart beginning to pound with a mix of fear and a new, defiant resolution. She took the Gentle Fist combat stance.

The match was a lesson in humility. Or so Neji intended.

He attacked first, his movement an explosion of speed. “Hakke Rokujūyon Shō! Two palms! Four palms!”

The old Hinata would have been defeated in the first second. The new Hinata, however, saw the attack coming. Her Byakugan, combined with her newfound perception, saw not just the movement, but the intent behind it. She dodged the first two palms with a seemingly impossible twist, her body flowing around him. She managed to block the third, the impact of her forearm against his echoing in the dojo. The fourth caught her in the shoulder, a precise strike that sent a wave of pain through her and blocked several of her tenketsu, causing her to stumble back.

Neji paused, genuinely surprised. She had dodged. She had blocked. She had lasted three seconds longer than he’d expected. The surprise on his face was quickly replaced by a cold anger. His prodigy’s pride had been grazed.

“Interesting,” he said, his voice losing its calm. “But not enough.”

He lunged again, this time with his full speed. He used his Kaiten, the Heavenly Spin, creating an impenetrable dome of chakra that repelled her. Before she could regain her balance, he was on her. A single, precise strike to her chest sent her to the floor, breathless, her chakra system thrown into complete disarray.

He stood over her, looking down.

“You see? Useless,” he said, his voice returning to its cold, philosophical tone. “You can improve your speed, you can increase your strength, but you cannot change your nature. Fate decreed that you would be a failure. And that I would be a genius. These are unalterable facts, decided the moment we were born. Your effort is just a pathetic attempt to fight against the current of an unstoppable river.”

Hinata pushed herself up on her elbows, coughing, trying to catch her breath. Tears of frustration stung her eyes.

“No!” she gasped, her voice trembling but filled with a new, defiant fury. “My destiny… is my own! I decide who I become!”

“Really?” Neji scoffed. “And who put those ridiculous ideas in your head? Oh, right. Your failure of a friend. The one with the least talent in our entire generation.”

“Naruto-kun is not a failure!” she yelled, struggling to her feet.

“He is,” Neji stated with absolute certainty. “And so are you. It’s natural for the weak to seek each other out. You cling to impossible dreams of willpower and hard work because it’s all you have. But your foolishness can’t erase the mark of weakness in your eyes, nor can it erase the mark of a monster in his.”

His composure broke for an instant, and the bitterness he carried inside spilled out.

“You, born into the main branch, complain about your cage. You know nothing!” he hissed, his voice shaking with years of resentment. “True destiny is a mark you cannot see and can never escape. A mark that reminds you of your place in the world every single day.”

He pointed to his own forehead, where, beneath his ninja headband, rested the Caged Bird seal.

“Keep playing at having friends and dreaming of changing the world, Hinata-sama. Reality will put you both in your place soon enough.”

He turned and left, leaving Hinata alone in the center of the vast, silent dojo. She stood there, trembling, not from the pain of the blows, but from the cruelty of his words. The tears finally came, tears of helpless rage.

She couldn’t convince him. Not with words. The walls of his prison of fatalism were too high.

She turned and ran out of the dojo. She ran through the immaculate hallways, ignoring the surprised looks from members of the branch family. She didn’t stop at her room. She ran out of the Hyuga compound, a fugitive from her own home.

She wasn’t running aimlessly. She was running with a purpose. Her face was streaked with furious tears, but her eyes held a steel-like determination. Words were not enough. She needed more than that. She needed strength, yes. But she also needed someone who understood her. Someone who wouldn’t judge her through the cold filter of her clan’s traditions.

I have to find Kurenai-sensei, she thought, and the idea was a beacon in her storm. I have to find her now.