That was their mistake. Hinata didn't wait—she spun, palm slamming into the second's chest with a crack of chakra-infused force. The figure flew back, crashing into the bridge's ropes, out cold before they hit the ground. The first recovered, snarling, and swung a fist at her. She ducked, grabbed their arm, and twisted—harder this time. Bone snapped again, and they dropped, howling, clutching their shattered limb.
"Stay down," she said, voice ice.
Souta stepped up, nudging the groaning figure with his boot, adrenaline buzzing. "Nice reflexes," he muttered, sheathing his untouched knife. "They didn't even blink 'til they saw you."
Hinata didn't respond, crouching beside the unconscious one. She yanked the cloak aside, revealing a Hidden Leaf forehead protector—scratched, worn, but unmistakable. Her breath hitched, eyes widening. "Leaf ninja?" she whispered, confusion lacing her tone. She tugged the sleeve up, exposing a tattoo on the inner arm—a stark, angular mark. Root's seal. "No… Danzo's men. Root."
Souta leaned over her shoulder, frowning. "Root?"He asked trying to act innocent in front of her.
Hinata straightened, her gaze troubled, scanning the bodies. "They're Danzo's enforcers—loyal only to him, not the Hokage. No morals, just orders. If they're here…" She trailed off, shaking her head. "They recognized me—hesitated. That's not like them."
"Maybe they didn't expect a Hyuga out here," Souta said, rubbing his neck. "But they sure didn't hesitate with me. What's their deal?"
"They eliminate threats," she said, voice low, hard. "No questions, no mercy."
...
The sun hung low, painting the riverlands in a dull orange glow as Souta and Hinata trudged toward an old outpost. It was a crumbling shack, half-swallowed by vines, sitting on a rise above the rushing river. The shinobi tracks they'd followed led here—two sets, fresh enough to mean someone had passed through recently. Souta's gut twisted. Pakura could be close, or this could be another dead end. Either way, he wasn't turning back now.
Hinata walked a step ahead. "The tracks stop here," she said, voice quiet but firm. "Someone's been inside. Recently."
Souta adjusted his pack, wiping sweat off his forehead. "Good or bad news?" he asked, keeping his tone light despite the itch of nerves.
"Depends who's waiting," she replied, glancing back at him. Her face was calm, but her hand hovered near her kunai pouch. That was enough to make him grip his knife tighter.
They approached the outpost, stepping over broken boards and weeds. The door hung off its hinges, creaking as Hinata pushed it open with her foot. Inside, the air smelled of damp wood and rust. A table sat overturned in the corner, a kunai stuck in the wall, and black scorch marks streaked the floor. Souta's heart jumped. Scorch marks. Pakura's jutsu?
"Looks like a fight," he said, stepping in beside her.
Hinata crouched near the table, running her fingers over a scratch in the wood.
A shadow moved outside the window, fast. Hinata spun, shoving Souta down just as the door crashed open. Two figures stormed in—cloaks dark, faces half-covered. One was the rogue from the bridge, arm in a sling, a snarl on his lips. The other was taller, a woman, her hands already sparking with fire. Souta hit the floor hard.
"Hyuga bitch," the man spat, drawing a blade with his good hand. "Should've stayed down."
Hinata didn't flinch. "Stay back," she hissed to Souta, then darted forward. The woman threw a fireball—bright, hot, roaring toward her. Hinata dodged, rolling low, and came up swinging. Her palm slammed into the woman's chest, a sharp crack echoing as the fire flickered out. The woman gasped, stumbling back.
Hinata was a blur—dodging another fireball, closing the gap. She grabbed the woman's arm, twisted, and struck her neck. The woman crumpled, out cold.
And men was also taken down by Hinata in just some seconds.
It was over in seconds. Souta sat back, breathing hard, wiping blood from a split lip he didn't remember getting. Hinata stood over the woman, chest heaving, a small cut on her arm dripping red. She looked at him, then the rogues. "You okay?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said, standing, brushing dirt off his pants. "You're bleeding, though."
She glanced at her arm, shrugging. "It's shallow. I've had worse." She kicked the man's blade away, then tied their hands with wire from her pouch. Efficient, no fuss.
"Nice moves. Didn't know you could hit that hard."
She smiled, just a little. "Shinobi training. You're not bad yourself—for a civilian."
"Scrappy, right?" he said, grinning despite the ache in his jaw. She nodded, and for a second, they just stood there, catching their breath.
Hinata checked the woman's pulse, then straightened. "They're rogues. No village ties. Might be linked to your friend."
Soon they left the outpost, the river glinting in the fading light. Souta's legs ached, but he kept pace with her. Hinata stayed quiet, scanning ahead, her cut still bleeding a little. He pulled a rag from his pack, handing it over. "Here. Wrap that up."
She took it, surprised. "Thanks." She tied it around her arm, quick and neat. "You didn't have to."
"You're the one keeping me alive," he said, shrugging. "Least I can do."
She didn't reply, but her eyes softened, just a bit. They walked on, the silence comfortable now. Souta noticed how she moved—steady, sure, even after a fight. She didn't complain about the cut, didn't slow down. Tough as hell, he thought. Not what he'd expected from a Hyuga.
A mile later, they stopped by the river to rest. Souta dropped his pack, sitting on a rock, while Hinata knelt to refill her waterskin. "You're good at this," he said, watching her. "Fighting, tracking—all of it. Why stick with me? I'm just slowing you down."
She looked up, water dripping from her hands. "You're not slow. You're… stubborn. Keeps things interesting." She paused, then added, "And you're not helpless. Back there, you held your own."
"Barely," he said, laughing. "But thanks. Means something, coming from you."
She smiled—small, real—and sat beside him, sipping from her waterskin. "I don't mind. It's… nice, not being alone out here."