The next day.
Before finalizing her discharge paperwork, Hikari, carrying a bouquet of flowers brought by Shikamaru and the others, went to visit Kazeuma Etsu, who was once again hospitalized with severe injuries.
Whether by coincidence or not, he was still in that dimly lit hospital room, unchanged in the slightest.
With both arms gone, Kazeuma relied on a caregiver for daily needs. When Hikari entered, the caregiver was applying medicine to his wounds.
The bloodstained bandages were undone, revealing that his arms, along with half his shoulders, were completely gone. The wound was a ghastly sight—charred bones and blood, smeared with some unknown yellow medicinal oil.
Losing both arms was a death sentence for a ninjutsu-type ninja.
His career as a shinobi was over.
"I heard you twisted that bastard's head clean off," Kazeuma said as Hikari walked in with the flowers. With the caregiver's help, he sat up, his neck tilting against the headboard, just like when Hikari used to visit the hospital to learn Fūton techniques from him.
"Using the Fūton you taught me," Hikari replied, placing the bouquet by the bedside. She noticed the same pitiful lily from before, now nearly wilted. Next to it were a fruit basket and flowers identical to hers—probably left by Hinata and the others who visited yesterday.
Kazeuma's lips curled into a faint, unstoppable smile. "I'm not that skilled."
Pop, pop… Little bubbles of joy and pride seemed to float above his head.
Hikari sometimes found it hard to keep a straight face. Her ability to sense good and evil made interactions with people who said one thing but felt another downright comical, and it had been lifting her spirits lately.
"What about your arms… what'll you do?" she asked.
"No more ninja life for me. Guess I'll live off the village's pension," Kazeuma said, a bitter expression crossing his face.
"How much will that be?"
"No idea. They haven't sent it yet."
"If it doesn't come through in a few days, I'll ask around for you."
Kazeuma blinked at her words. "You've got that kind of pull now?"
"Eh, something like that."
The room fell quiet.
The caregiver, wearing gloves, applied ointment to Kazeuma's wounds as he gritted his teeth against the pain. His dark green eyes studied the girl before him, now so different from before, his expression complex.
He'd overheard plenty from the doctors and nurses these past few days: Hikari, the one who defeated Yugakure's veteran elite Jōnin, "Raging Thunder"; personally escorted by the Third Hokage; Konoha's greatest genius in history, with potential to surpass even the First Hokage. There were even rumors that the Third was considering taking her as his final disciple, making her the fourth legendary ninja after the Sannin.
Of course, there were always the so-called "清醒者" (sober ones) who doubted her feats from the start. Kazeuma, lying in his hospital bed, had unwittingly become their prime example to debunk her achievements.
They'd say: During her academy days, she easily defeated Jōnin Kazeuma in front of everyone, breaking his ribs. He recovered in this very room—doctors, nurses, and ninja academy instructors can confirm it.
A first-year academy student beating an elite Jōnin sounded absurd, but given her other accomplishments, it wasn't entirely unbelievable. The doubts quickly faded.
In just a few days, the blind girl who once didn't even qualify for the ninja academy had become the face of Konoha's new generation of prodigies.
Whether Hikari's words carried weight, Kazeuma wasn't sure—but they definitely held more sway than his.
"Thanks," he said.
"No need." Hikari waved it off. "Focus on recovering. Who knows, maybe one day medical ninjutsu will advance enough to restore your arms."
"Here's hoping."
Kazeuma's mood wasn't great. A ninjutsu to regenerate lost limbs wasn't something that could be developed overnight. Even the legendary Tsunade-hime would likely be helpless.
After some small talk, Hikari prepared to leave.
"Wait," Kazeuma called out.
"I want to give you a Fūton ninjutsu."
The familiar yet unexpected offer made Hikari pause. Ever since she'd awakened, people had been showering her with gifts—Raiton, Yin-Yang techniques, rare ninjutsu knowledge—all handed to her like they were worthless.
"What kind of ninjutsu?" she asked.
"An S-rank Fūton technique I created. It's not perfect yet; there are still some flaws to iron out." Kazeuma's dim eyes glanced at his empty sleeves. "You can see my situation. This technique's wasted on me. I hope you'll complete it someday."
Hikari fell silent for a moment.
She already had a mountain of tasks: mastering Raiton chakra mode, Yin and Yang techniques—none of them easy. Plus, she still remembered Sarutobi Hiruzen's advice on the rooftop: There are countless powerful ninjutsu in the shinobi world, but the ones that suit your fighting style are the most important.
An S-rank Fūton technique created by Kazeuma, given his skill level and fighting style, was unlikely to mesh with hers. Not to mention it was incomplete—training it would be tough, and perfecting it would take even more time and effort. Even if she finished it, an S-rank technique in difficulty didn't guarantee S-rank power. If the results were lackluster, all her effort would be wasted.
With the looming threat of the Kaguya clan's bloodline disease and Kaguya Ōtsutsuki's world-ending crisis, Hikari's time was too precious to squander.
"Sorry, I might be… pretty busy lately," she said tactfully, but Kazeuma caught the underlying rejection.
His life's work, the "Thunder-Shattering Shuttle," meant little to her.
Pop, pop, pop… Dark bubbles of disappointment spread above his head, hitting Hikari like a wave.
"It's fine. Your priorities come first," he said.
Seeing Kazeuma's dejection, Hikari wasn't sure how to comfort him. She could pretend to accept his technique and let it gather dust at home, but that would be an even greater insult to his efforts than refusing outright.
Konoha had plenty of ninja. Surely, one day, a talented kid would come along, stumble upon Kazeuma-sensei's guidance, and perfect his technique with their brilliance.
No need to hang her hopes on this one tree.
"Wishing you a speedy recovery. I'll head out now," she said.
"Yeah, take care."
Kazeuma forced a smile, pulling himself together.
Click.
Hikari turned the doorknob, letting a sliver of sunlight spill through the crack, brightening the dim room.
"Keep the door open. A bit of light will lift your mood and help your wounds heal faster," she suggested.
"Tch, mind your own business," Kazeuma muttered, glancing at the caregiver tending to his bandages. A rare softness crossed his gaunt face.
The caregiver leaned close, pretending to focus on applying the medicine, her beautiful face flushed with a suspicious blush.
Ugh.
SLAM!
Hikari, feeling like a third wheel, slammed the door shut and walked away.
Discharging from the hospital went smoothly. The village covered all her medical expenses, and she'd heard they were planning to award her a hefty sum for her contributions during the crisis.
Hikari didn't care much about the money. Between the Byakugan's gambling potential and the Kaguya clan's bone-manipulating abilities, she had wealth beyond measure. Her dramatic reaction to Might Guy burning her ten billion ryō was mostly an act to guilt-trip him for leverage.
Her attending physician handed her two forms to sign: one for discharge, to waive liability for future complications, and another for her autograph, to keep as a collectible for future value.
She signed both.
The Kaguya bloodline disease could flare up anytime, and if she wanted to learn medical ninjutsu later, she might need this doctor's help. A signature was a small price for goodwill.
Once all the paperwork was done, Hikari stepped out of Konoha Hospital's main entrance, the midday sun blazing overhead.
"All done with the paperwork?" a voice called.
"Yeah, but what are you doing here?"
Not far from the hospital, Hikari spotted a silver-haired man with a broom-like hairstyle, squatting in the shade and waving her over.
"The Third said you're still recovering and might be in danger. Since you're staying at my place, he asked me to stick close and protect you for a few days," Kakashi said, his single eye squinting as if he'd just been dragged out of bed.
"Fine," Hikari replied, knowing she had no say in the matter.
Her Kirigakure identity was still unverified. Sarutobi Hiruzen was likely investigating, but without confirmation, he was worried she'd lied and might flee. So, he'd assigned Kakashi to both protect and monitor her.
After killing Yozuki Takeo, there were only a handful of people in the village who could match Hikari's strength. Kakashi, being both powerful and her landlord, was the perfect choice.
"Just stay put at home for a few days. I don't want to chase you around. I'm supposed to be on vacation," Kakashi said, lazily ruffling his messy hair.
"What's in it for me?" Hikari asked.
"Your rent's on me."
"Not enough. Sweeten the deal."
Kakashi sighed, closing his eye for three seconds as he mentally calculated his mission pay. He raised one finger. "I'll cover your food, lodging, everything for these few days. Any more, and I'm in the red."
"Deal!"
Her goal achieved, Hikari didn't waste time. She pointed toward the main street leading to Konoha's center. "Let's go. Ichiraku Ramen!"
Hikari strode forward, while Kakashi, weighing his wallet, trailed slowly behind, fully embracing his role as a bodyguard.
During her battle with Yozuki Takeo, the blind cane she'd used to escape Kirigakure had been knocked away and lost. She hadn't bothered looking for it. After that fight, the cane wouldn't fool anyone anymore.
Both being ninja, they moved swiftly and soon reached Konoha's bustling main street.
It was noon, and the streets were packed. The aroma of steamed sanshoku dango and grilled squid wafted over the stone-paved road, but the crowd at the ninja tool shop far outshone the dango stall's customers.
The shop's owner, eyes crinkled into slits from smiling, stood on the steps, waving enthusiastically. "You all know Hikari the Sun-Chaser, right? The one who surpassed Kakashi's record, Konoha's true number-one genius! When she tested her chakra nature in our shop, the chakra paper ripped into five pieces—gave me a shock! I'm telling you, only our new 'premium chakra paper' can handle talent like that!"
Blah, blah, blah.
The shopkeeper waved around some fancy-packaged chakra paper, hyping it up. Hikari, embarrassed, lowered her head and hurried through the crowd, dragging Konoha's second-best genius, whose record had just been overshadowed.
Kakashi, walking beside her, rolled his dead-fish eye. Should've extorted her harder when I sold her that Shadow Clone technique.
Soon, they reached Ichiraku Ramen. The rich, savory scent of tonkotsu broth hit Hikari's nose, instantly sparking her appetite after three days of hospital food.
Pushing aside the noren curtain, they saw the counter packed with customers.
"Gonna have to wait," Kakashi said, familiar with the routine. He found a spot in the waiting area and sat on a small stool.
Ichiraku's shop was tiny. Coming at peak lunchtime meant waiting, so Kakashi usually visited in the quieter afternoons.
Hikari sighed. Both times she'd come here, it was like this.
"Your large tonkotsu ramen, enjoy!" Ayame, the young and pretty server, emerged from the kitchen with a tray of steaming bowls.
After serving the customers, she glanced at the waiting area and spotted two silver-haired, seemingly disabled people. "Kakashi-san, and… Hikari! Are your injuries better?"
Her eyes sparkled with excitement, her voice drawing the attention of the diners quietly enjoying their meals.
"Much better," Hikari replied, a bit uncomfortable with Ayame's enthusiasm.
She'd only met Ayame once, yet the girl remembered her name and knew about her injuries? Though Hikari knew this was likely Sarutobi Hiruzen's doing, she hadn't expected the diners to react.
"Is that… Hikari the Sun-Chaser?" one whispered.
"Silver hair, blind eyes—it's gotta be her!" A middle-aged customer squinted, glancing between Hikari and Kakashi, quickly ruling out the tired-looking man who seemed like he'd just pulled an all-nighter.
"Unbelievable!" someone exclaimed, and the sentiment was instantly echoed.
Blind, barely over four feet tall, petite and frail, with soft, pale skin—she looked sweeter than the chashu on their ramen. Who'd guess this girl could tear apart tigers and leopards as an elite Jōnin?
Don't judge a book by its cover.
The crowd's curious stares made Hikari feel like she could charge admission at a zoo.
"When I graduated from the academy, it was like this too. It'll die down eventually," Kakashi said coolly, either comforting her or subtly bragging.
"Ayame-san!" A middle-aged woman with a young boy waved her over.
"Is something wrong? Not liking the ramen?" Ayame hurried over, confused.
"No, it's delicious." The woman stood, patting the boy's head to signal him to follow, then smiled at Hikari. "That day at the training grounds, my Ika was there. If you hadn't stopped that attacking ninja, I don't dare think what could've happened. Ayame-san, we'll take ours to go. Leave our seats for Hikari-san and her friend."
"But Mom, ramen's no good when it's packed!" the boy, his mouth smeared with broth, protested.
Whack!
Hikari watched the kindly woman smack Ika on the head. He quietly wiped his mouth with a napkin and said no more.
"Well… alright," Hikari said, scratching her temple as she and Kakashi took the boy's seats amid the woman's thanks.
"Oh, and put Hikari-san's meal on my tab. I'll settle it next time," the woman called back from outside.
"No need, big sis. Someone's treating me today," Hikari replied, patting Kakashi's shoulder.
Kakashi, sitting beside her, nodded grudgingly. Dragged out of his vacation, forced to play bodyguard, outdone in fame, and now footing the bill—unlike his own days as a prodigy, when he was just gawked at like a monkey, Hikari was getting seats and offers to pay. Where did I go wrong?
Seeing the confused, sour bubbles popping over Kakashi's head, Hikari stifled a laugh and raised her hand. "Ayame-san, twenty large tonkotsu ramens!"
"Coming right up!" Ayame, unfazed by Hikari's appetite, grabbed the order and darted to the kitchen.
Kakashi, who hadn't even ordered yet, raised his hand in vain. His dead-fish eye flicked to the menu prices on the wall. Twenty bowls for her, one for me… twenty-one bowls of ramen… Two bubbles of regret floated above his head, their complex emotions practically spelling out "REGRET" in big letters.
(Volume Two: Wrath of Wind and Thunder, Complete)
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