The setting sun cast long shadows as twilight deepened.
The two figures gazing upward weren't looking at Ōtsutsuki Kaguya.
If Hikari could kill Kaguya and feed her to the Ten-Tails' juvenile form, she wouldn't even need to plant the God Tree. At this point, the easiest target was the naturally disabled Ōtsutsuki Toneri—still without his Byakugan, unable to awaken the Tenseigan, guarded only by a few Ōtsutsuki puppets.
He might be able to tap into the giant Tenseigan's power slightly, but compared to Kaguya? He was practically begging to be slaughtered.
Beyond him, Hikari vaguely recalled another Ōtsutsuki from Boruto—Isshiki, or something?
She hadn't watched the infamous "unburnable trash" of a sequel, only catching fragmented details from短视频 clips. Her memory was hazy, but she knew he had some Ant-Man-like shrinking ability.
Honestly, if not for the Tenseigan's absurdly broken powers piquing her curiosity, she wouldn't even have known about Toneri.
"Why would the Ōtsutsuki bring two God Tree seeds?" The Yang Release clone lowered her gaze, frowning at the main body.
"Backup."
Hikari's fingers traced the faintly glowing seals on the spherical containment jutsu as she spoke coolly:
"Not every God Tree bears a chakra fruit. It depends on the seed's quality, the sacrificed Ōtsutsuki's potential, and the host planet's energy reserves. They can screen planets and vessels in advance—but whether a seed succeeds? Only blooming reveals the truth. If the first fails, the second seed activates."
"Makes sense."
The clone nodded. The cosmos was vast. Even for the Ōtsutsuki, interstellar travel took centuries. They weren't some slapdash operation—for a project as critical as harvesting entire worlds, redundancy was logical.
"If we plant the God Tree, we'll make enemies of the entire shinobi world," the clone murmured, unease flickering across her face.
A significant part of Hikari's relentless training had been to stop Kaguya's resurrection. But if she planted the Tree, she'd become the world-ending villain.
"We don't need to plant it. And we can't afford to wait." Clenching the seed, Hikari's eyes burned with fervor. "The Reverse Eight Gates are incomplete. Far from our original goal."
Goal?
The clone blinked—then remembered.
The initial purpose of the Reverse Gates wasn't to suppress the Shikotsumyaku's corrosion. Back then, before absorbing Kurama's chakra, before the gray bones' crisis erupted, the aim had been to convert chakra into life force to solve Hikari's energy shortages.
It was only after collaborating with Chihaya Tō that they bypassed the conversion hurdle using medical ninjutsu's life-manipulation principles, achieving a half-success.
Now, the Reverse Gates could absorb life force—but not transform chakra into it.
"Our technique is still flawed!"
Hikari's grip on the seed tightened like a lifeline.
"The God Tree absorbs all energy—life, chakra, nature energy—condensing it into the ultimate chakra fruit. Even an Ōtsutsuki's essence is fuel. I've hesitated to drain the tailed beasts, fearing Kaguya's resurrection within me. But with the God Tree's power..."
Her voice sharpened. "We could purify the tailed beasts' chakra into pure life force, erasing Kaguya's imprint. It'd be like extracting the very fruit she consumed and remaking it as ours. No need to plant the Tree. No global war. And once done?"
A razor-edged smile. "Kaguya's revival becomes impossible. The world will hail me as its savior."
"...But to achieve that, the Ten-Tails must devour an Ōtsutsuki sacrifice to become the God Tree," the clone finished, grinning as she caught on.
"Grrr~!"
Samehada, sensing its master's excitement, gaped its maw skyward as if ready to charge into space and taste Ōtsutsuki chakra itself.
"Patience."
The clone patted the sword's hilt. "Reaching the moon requires locating the spatial tunnel. First, reach Kage-level, kill Danzō, seize control of Root's intelligence network to scout the path—or develop flight capabilities to brute-force the ascent. At our current strength, discussing the God Tree is premature."
Hikari agreed. Charging blindly to the moon would be delivering herself to Toneri as a gift.
Kaguya's revival was still distant. Her Byakugan's evolution—its final form and abilities—remained uncertain. Her nascent Sage Body was still fragile, while the Shikotsumyaku neared its third stage. The imbalance was dangerous.
She needed to gorge on life energy until her Sage Body could withstand the gray bones' full awakening.
Then, with absolute control over their annihilating power?
Almost no one in the shinobi world could stop her.
Toneri and the Tenseigan could wait.
The bloodline disease crisis was resolved.
Time was now her ally.
Glancing at the dimming sunset, Hikari stretched—her steel-hard bones clinking like forged metal.
"I'm exhausted."
The absorbed life force still needed digestion. Months of relentless research demanded rest.
"Agreed."
The clone eyed her weary main body. Even Naruto's stamina would've crumbled under such shadow-clone abuse. Only the gray bones' mortal threat had driven Hikari this far. Now, with the tide turning, she deserved respite.
Autumn faded into winter.
The New Year approached.
Snow fell over Konoha like a suffocating quilt, the sky a leaden shroud.
In the Hatake compound, steam curled from a heated kotatsu. Hikari—bundled in an oversized white onesie with a bear-eared hood—lay sprawled across a reinforced tatami platform, her silver hair fanned around her like a plush toy's fur.
Creak.
The stone beneath her groaned as she flopped onto her back, limbs splayed.
Behind her blindfold, her Byakugan lazily observed the blizzard outside. Everything was monochrome.
"Hikari! The snow's perfect! Aren't you coming out?"
Might Gai barged in, trailing frost and sweat. His face was flushed from training, body radiating heat like a furnace.
"Ever heard of 'winter cat mode'?" Hikari didn't budge. The hood obscured her face further, her voice muffled by fabric.
"…What mode?"
Gai's brow furrowed.
"Smart cats don't go out in blizzards. They loaf indoors. My hometown called it 'cat-wintering.'"
As she explained (lifting a term from some Northern Earth acquaintance), she rolled over—prompting another groan from the flooring.
Gai eyed the newly reinforced platform warily.
This room's original bed had shattered under her weight. The replacement suffered the same fate. Upon inspection, he'd found the steel frame bent—how something so small weighed so much defied logic.
Eventually, they'd ripped out all furniture. Hikari had used Earth Release to sculpt solid stone slabs, reinforcing them with chakra. Only then could she "sleep" without collapsing everything.
"You've been 'catting' for two months. At least move! Youth thrives on activity!"
Gai didn't understand the change.
Since returning from his last mission, he'd found her like this—vanishing occasionally, only to reappear and resume loafing. She barely ate, claiming she "wasn't hungry" or had "already eaten." He and Kakashi hadn't seen her consume a proper meal in ages.
When pressed, she'd blamed a "side effect" of her new jutsu.
Worried, he'd consulted the Third—only to be met with a sigh and a pat on the shoulder. "Let her be." The old man's expression had screamed terminal illness.
"Nope."
Hikari tugged the hood over her face completely, sinking deeper into warmth.
The Reverse Eight Gates' effects exceeded expectations.
After devouring every living thing within a kilometer of that waterfall, her body had entered this state—limp, feverish, flooded with a molten vitality. Her cells, already tempered by Lightning Armor, now thrummed with energy.
Her mind floated weightlessly, yet her soul felt denser—cotton compacting into steel.
Teeth, nails, hair—all shed and regrew, tougher than before. Even her skin peeled away, replaced by softer, luminous new layers.
The Sage Body wasn't just triggering her Byakugan's evolution. It was rebirthing her.
And she was addicted.
Whenever the life-force high waned, she'd vanish into the Forest of Death to "refuel," then return to bask in the metamorphosis.
Her clone had consulted Senju Tsubaki about Sage Body traits, but found no parallels.
The Senju's power was innate—either born with it or never. No recorded case of acquiring it midlife existed.
Watching her laze, Gai sighed.
Konoha's top genius… becoming like Kakashi.
Speaking of whom—Kakashi had also succumbed to "winter cat mode," glued to his Icha Icha books. Despite "resting" all day, dark circles haunted his eyes.
Is "genius" a curse?
The absurd thought surfaced before Gai violently dismissed it.
(Unbeknownst to him, he'd brushed against a grim truth: Konoha's prodigies did share tragic fates.)
"Hikari—! Hakureeei—!"
Before Gai could drag her up, a boisterous voice cut through the storm.
He recognized it instantly.
With the academy on winter break, that knucklehead had become a frequent visitor.
The door rattled with surprisingly polite knocks—a courtesy Gai appreciated until—
"Uncle! Hi!"
A yellow blur in a red scarf and puffy jacket stood there, goggles askew, snow melting off his spiky hair.
Un…cle?
Gai turned to stone.
I'm twenty.
TWENTY.
Do I look like a middle-aged man?!
Beneath her blindfold, Hikari smirked. She'd sensed Naruto's vibrant chakra the moment he'd neared.
Gai's reaction was priceless.
(The man did look older than his years, his face weathered by relentless training. Next to Kakashi, he seemed a generation apart.)
"Naruto? What's up?"
She pushed her hair aside, sitting up. The bear hood's flopping ears made her resemble a giant plushie.
Naruto's already wind-chapped ears reddened further. His usual volume dropped to a mumble.
"Tomorrow's New Year's! So, uh… h-happy New Year!"
He thrust forward a clumsily wrapped box, toes digging into the reinforced floor like he wanted to tunnel away.
Gai's eyebrow twitched.
This kid…
Something's off.
(´∀｀)♡