The sun rose higher, filtering dappled light through the thin canopy as Souta and Hinata walked side by side along the dusty path. A faint chill hung in the air, a remnant of the cool night, and the crunch of gravel beneath their feet broke the stillness between them.
Souta kept his hands stuffed in his pockets, his cloak swaying with each step, while Hinata moved beside him, her posture straight yet relaxed. Her pale eyes swept the horizon with a quiet intensity he couldn't quite decipher.
He stole a quick glance at her. This is Hinata—the one so many would die for, he thought. She was undeniably beautiful, he had to admit. It was just… her figure caught his attention for a fleeting moment. From what he recalled of his past life's obscure trivia, her bosom was supposedly around 105 cm—impressive, just a step behind Tsunade's legendary size. And yeah, he could see it: larger than Mikoto's and Kushina's, maybe even Hana's too. He flicked his eyes away in a fraction of a second, refocusing before his stare lingered too long.
"So," he said, breaking the silence with a casual but curious tone, "what's this 'something' you're handling? You don't seem like the type to just wander out of Konoha without a reason."
Hinata's lips curved into a faint smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's… personal," she replied, her voice soft yet firm, deftly dodging the question. "I needed to step away for a bit. The village can feel stifling sometimes."
He snorted, kicking a pebble down the path. "Stifling? Konoha's a damn labyrinth. You must've ticked someone off to want out that bad."
She didn't take the bait, just tilted her head slightly, her gaze briefly meeting his before returning to the road. "Not really. Just… too many voices lately. I needed some quiet." Her fingers tightened on her pack strap for a moment—a subtle slip she likely didn't notice.
Souta tucked that detail away—clan pressure, probably. He'd heard the Hyuga were obsessed with tradition, always boxing their own into rigid roles: marriage, duty, bloodlines. Hinata didn't strike him as someone who'd bend easily, though. "Fair enough," he said, letting it go. "Quiet's nice. Just don't expect me to zip it the whole trip."
Her smile grew a touch warmer, genuine this time. "I wouldn't dream of it. You're not the silent type."
"Guilty," he said, grinning. "So, what's the deal with those eyes of yours? You really gonna spot bandits before they jump us?"
Hinata nodded, tapping near her temple again. "The Byakugan sees everything—three hundred sixty degrees, far past what normal eyes can manage. If there's trouble, I'll know before they get close."
"Creepy," he muttered, half-joking. "No sneaking up on you, huh? Must make poker nights a nightmare."
She laughed—a soft, unexpected sound that cut through the morning stillness. "I don't play poker. But yes, it's hard to surprise me."
"Good to know," he said, adjusting his pack. "Guess I'll stick close then. Last thing I need is some rogue ninja shanking me 'cause I didn't see 'em coming."
They kept moving, the path stretching west toward the riverlands. Souta hadn't told her about Pakura—not the details, anyway.
Just "a friend" he was looking for, and Hinata hadn't pushed. Smart of her. He wasn't sure how much he'd spill if she did.
The trees thinned as they neared a shallow rise, the road dipping toward a small bridge over a trickling creek. Hinata slowed, her head tilting slightly, eyes narrowing. Souta caught it—the shift in her stance, the way her hand hovered near her kunai pouch.
"Trouble?" he asked, voice low, his own hand sliding toward the knife tucked at his waist.
"Maybe," she murmured, her gaze distant, focused on something he couldn't see. "Three people, half a mile ahead. Hiding in the brush near the bridge. They're… waiting."
"Bandits?" he asked, keeping his tone steady despite the twitch in his gut. He wasn't a fighter—not like her.
"Could be," she said, stepping closer to him, her voice dropping. "They're not moving like ninja—no chakra I can sense. Just regular weapons. Knives, maybe a sword. They're positioned to ambush whoever crosses."
Souta cursed under his breath. "Great. First day out, and we're already a target. You sure they're not just hunters or something?"
Hinata shook her head. "Hunters don't hide like that. They're watching the road, not the woods. It's us they want—or anyone passing through."
He rubbed his jaw, thinking fast. "Alright, so what to do? You'r the boss here."
She glanced at him, a flicker of amusement in her eyes despite the tension. "We could go around—go through the trees, avoid them entirely. Or…" She paused, her tone shifting, sharper. "We take them out. Quietly. They won't expect me."
Souta raised an eyebrow. "You're suggesting you jump 'em? You're a Hyuga, not some back-alley brawler."
"I'm a shinobi first," she said, her voice calm but edged with steel. "If they're preying on travelers, they're a problem. I can handle it."
He studied her for a beat—those pale eyes steady, unflinching. She wasn't bluffing. "Fine," he said, nodding toward the trees. "But try sneaking first. If they spot us, you do your thing. I'll… improvise."
Hinata nodded, gesturing for him to follow as she veered off the path into the underbrush. The ground softened underfoot, pine needles muffling their steps.
She moved like a ghost—fluid, silent—while Souta did his best to keep up, wincing every time a twig snapped under his boots. She shot him a look once, half-exasperated, but didn't comment.
They circled wide, the bridge a faint outline through the trees. Hinata crouched low, her Byakugan active now—veins bulging faintly around her eyes as she scanned ahead. "They're still there," she whispered. "Two on the left, one on the right. They haven't seen us yet."
"Good," Souta muttered, crouching beside her. "How close can we get before they do?"
"Not much closer," she said. "The trees thin out soon. If we're bypassing, we need to move now."
He nodded, peering through the branches. The bridge was old, wooden, sagging slightly over the creek. Perfect spot for an ambush—narrow, no room to run. "Let's keep going then. No point picking a fight if we don't have to."
Hinata agreed, leading them further into the woods, paralleling the road.
The air grew thicker with the scent of damp earth and moss, the creek's murmur fading as they put distance between them and the bridge. Souta's heart slowed, the adrenaline easing off. Maybe they'd dodge this one.
Then Hinata froze, her hand snapping up to halt him. "Wait," she hissed, eyes wide, locked on something ahead.
"What now?" he asked, tension creeping back.
"Someone else," she said, voice tight. "Coming from the west—fast. A shinobi. Chakra's strong. They're heading straight for the bridge."
Souta's stomach dropped. "Friend or foe?"
"I don't know," she admitted, her gaze flicking to him. "But those bandits won't stand a chance if they try anything. We should stay back—watch."
He nodded, settling into the shadows beside her. The bandits were one thing—dumb muscle he could outsmart. A rogue ninja? That was out of his league. Hinata's presence suddenly felt less like a convenience and more like a lifeline.
Minutes ticked by, the woods eerily still. Then—a flash of movement across the bridge. A figure in dark clothes, moving with lethal grace, kunai glinting in their hand. Shouts erupted—hoarse, panicked—from the brush, followed by the clash of metal and a choked scream. It was over fast. Too fast.
Hinata's eyes narrowed, tracking it all. "They're down," she whispered. "All three. The shinobi didn't even slow."
Souta swallowed, peering through the trees. The figure straightened, wiping their blade on a fallen bandit's cloak, then turned west again, vanishing down the road like a shadow. "Who was that?" he muttered.
"I couldn't tell," Hinata said, her voice low, troubled. "No markings, no village symbol. But they're strong—jonin-level, maybe higher."
"Great," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Bandits one minute, rogue ninja the next. This trip's off to a hell of a start."
Hinata stood, brushing dirt from her knees. "We should keep moving. That shinobi's gone, but others might come. The riverlands aren't far—let's stick to the trees for now."
"Yeah," Souta agreed.
She nodded, and they pressed deeper into the woods, the bridge and its bloody aftermath fading behind them.