Scratch—scratch—
The pen tip glided across white paper, leaving behind a series of cryptic symbols.
A bluish-gray swallow perched obediently on the desk, its round, jet-black head tilting as it eyed the strange, ink-smelling "worms" on the page—as if tempted to take a nibble.
"Not now."
Sawada Fūka gently pushed the curious beak away with a finger, her fox-like eyes narrowing as she continued writing in coded script:
"Large numbers of ANBU detected near the Uchiha compound. Likely conflict brewing between Konoha's higher-ups and the Uchiha." "Several Hyūga branch family members have mysteriously disappeared. The main family has tightened security—no openings to steal a Byakugan yet." "The Nine-Tails' jinchūriki is heavily guarded. Only at the Academy is surveillance slightly relaxed..."
The page filled steadily.
Fūka propped her chin on the pen, her beautiful yet lonely gaze drifting into the distance.
Her real name was Fūka.
Born in a nameless village south of the Land of Lightning, she had once been an ordinary girl—until the day a monster with orange hair and brown skin reduced her home to rubble.
She had been gathering herbs in the mountains when it happened.
The birds told her.
The beasts helped her survive.
And eventually, Kumo-nin found her.
"Use your gift to infiltrate Konoha's barrier and monitor the Hyūga. Find a way to steal the Byakugan."
"Succeed in either, and we'll kill the monster that destroyed your village."
She had no choice.
Konoha's barrier detected chakra. The Hyūga's Byakugan saw chakra.
But she had none.
No ninjutsu. No training.
Only her innate ability to communicate with animals.
And so, for years, she had lived in Konoha as Sawada Fūka—a woman of beauty and grace, unnoticed and unremarkable.
Three years ago, she had nearly succeeded.
Mice sent to scout the Hyūga compound had led her to Hyūga Hinata's location.
If not for bad luck—if that Kumo team hadn't run into Hyūga Hiashi—the Byakugan would already be in Lightning Country's hands.
That same year, she had seduced an old gatekeeper, drugged him, and kept him locked in her basement.
Yet even after years of torture, he never broke.
And with each session, she felt the stench of blood cling to her—no amount of perfume could wash it away.
A faint sob echoed from the cellar.
A reminder that there was no turning back.
When will this end? When will I finally get my revenge?
Her fingers tightened around the pen, knuckles whitening.
Scratch—scratch—
She organized the intel by priority:
Uchiha (most urgent) Hyūga & Nine-Tails (secondary) Miscellaneous observations (least important)
Like:
"Konoha's rising genius, Hikari, possesses a suspected Kekkei Genkai—sealless Water Release..."
Rolling the note into a slim metal tube, she turned to the swallow.
"Here."
Chirp! (Ready!)
The bird obediently lifted its left leg.
Fūka smiled faintly, tying the message securely before stroking its head.
"Be careful."
With a flutter of wings, the swallow shot through the open window—a streak of blue against the sky.
Below, in the Forest of Death—
"Hah...!"
A small figure stood sideways on a cliff face, arms outstretched toward the roaring waterfall.
"Wind Release...!"
Transparent chakra gathered in her palms, humming faintly—utterly insignificant against the forty-meter cascade crashing before her.
This training method is insane.
But the "Hikari" clone had no time to complain.
Its sole purpose was to master nature transformation.
Meanwhile, the real Hikari stood in a nearby clearing, her Byakugan active.
"Byakugan...!"
Pale veins bulged as her vision expanded—scanning every living thing within a kilometer.
Sparrows chirping in the branches. A venomous snake, tongue flicking. Fat rodents gnawing on grass.
No ANBU. No Root. No chakra signatures at all.
Safe.
Satisfied, she exhaled and removed her cloak.
Time to train.
"Gentle Fist... Eight Trigrams Palms."
She assumed the stance—one hand forward, the other guarding her lower flank, shoulders relaxed yet poised.
A sphere of chakra materialized in her palm.
Then—
"Hah!"
Her arm blurred.
A single strike—
CRACK!
The tree exploded.
Bark flew like shrapnel. Leaves rained down.
Hikari shook her head, dislodging foliage from her hair.
"Not bad... but not right."
She examined the damage.
The trunk's inner wood was shattered—but not by chakra.
Pure brute force.
"The essence of the Gentle Fist is merging physical strikes with chakra penetration. I'm still treating it like regular taijutsu."
A fundamental difference from the Kaguya clan's brutal style or Guy's Strong Fist.
But she wasn't starting from zero.
Hyūga Ami's early teachings had given her a foundation.
And Neji, now proficient in the Eight Trigrams, could answer her questions at night.
Progress would come.
Fast.