Hikari Kaguya

That night. 

The cheerful team assignments came to an end. 

With an odd number of students, the class couldn't form full three-man squads—leaving Naruto and Hikari as a duo. 

Naruto was thrilled, grinning so wide he might as well have been impersonating Might Guy. 

Hikari, however, watched Sasuke's retreating figure with a quiet heaviness in her chest. 

"People's joys and sorrows are never truly shared." 

After tonight, that prideful boy would die. 

What remained would only be a hollow avenger. 

The memory stirred something in her. 

A rebellion. A massacre. Just like the Kaguya clan—once vast, now reduced to her and Kimimaro. 

"How similar fate can be." 

She returned to the Hatake compound in silence, lying on her bed, waiting for it all to end. 

Dawn approached. 

Only when her Byakugan caught sight of Kakashi dragging himself home did she finally close her eyes. 

Konoha had won. No surprises. 

With the Uchiha gone, the village would enter an era of peace—and her path to growing stronger would face no more disruptions. 

"If only I were strong enough… none of this would've happened." 

Her consciousness blurred. 

In her dreams, she stood once more on that battlefield where she'd first awakened. 

Severed limbs. Blood-soaked earth. 

Her father, split in two, crawling forward in agony. 

She couldn't tell—was this her past life, or this one? 

Scratch! 

The pen tip dug into the paper, leaving a jagged mark. 

Sawada Fūka's hand trembled, her forehead slick with sweat. 

The intelligence she was transcribing could shake the world: 

The Uchiha—the legendary clan that had once pacified the warring era alongside the Senju—had been exterminated. 

Only one survivor: a boy named Sasuke. 

She'd suspected something when ANBU surrounded the district, but she never imagined Konoha would act so swiftly. 

In less than an hour, the "strongest clan in Konoha" was erased. 

"Invincible Sharingan? Elite three-tomoe users?" 

"None of it mattered against sheer numbers." 

Dozens of chūnin and jōnin, coordinating seamlessly—water jutsu to suppress, genjutsu to disorient, sealing arts to immobilize, weapons striking from blind spots. 

One misstep, and the Uchiha were buried under an avalanche of secret techniques, clan arts, and obscure ninjutsu they'd never even heard of. 

"Battle IQ? Tactical analysis?" 

Try analyzing a hundred different jutsu hurled at you at once. 

A few Uchiha jōnin, screaming defiance, attempted to fight back. 

They lasted seven seconds. 

Then they were on their knees, limbs shattered, chakra drained by some unknown technique. 

A wire looped around their necks—yank—heads rolled. 

Fresh corpses were picked clean by specialists harvesting Sharingan eyes. 

Two Uchiha, overcome by grief, began glowing—likely preparing a last-ditch technique. 

But before they could move, sensor-nin detected the chakra surge. 

A single order. 

A deluge of sealing tags smothered them, script covering their bodies like some macabre novel. 

Then—silence. 

Konoha's ANBU were so efficient they cleaned up as they slaughtered. By the time the massacre ended, every Sharingan had been cataloged: 

One- and two-tomoe eyes stored in jars. Three-tomoe eyes individually sealed in scrolls. 

The mighty Uchiha, butchered like livestock. 

Not even a chance to trade lives. 

Two ANBU took heavy injuries—only to be swarmed by medics and patched up mid-battle. 

"This… is the power of a hidden village." 

Fūka shuddered, even secondhand. The age of clans ruling the battlefield was over. 

Uchiha. Senju. Uzumaki. All the same. 

She tucked the report into a hollow pen. 

Her two swallows, sent to Kumogakure days ago, still hadn't returned. They should've been back by now. 

"What's taking so long?" 

Her stomach churned. The first report was one thing, but the intel on Hikari—her real mission—couldn't afford delays. 

Would Kumo even act on such a speculative lead? 

Just as doubt crept in— 

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

The kitchen window rattled. 

"The signal!" 

Her swallow was back! 

Fūka rushed over, flinging the window open. The bird hopped inside, a tiny scroll tied to its leg. 

She fed it, then unrolled the message. 

Inside: 

A letter. A photo. A bone whistle. 

She grabbed the photo first. 

A cave. Four Kumo-nin surrounded a towering orange-haired boy. 

"Jūgo!" 

The one who'd destroyed her hometown. 

"Kumo caught him?!" 

Heart pounding, she decoded the letter. 

The first section made her giddy: 

Praise for her espionage. Promises of wealth, the title of "Hero," and public execution of Jūgo if she delivered the Byakugan wielder alive. Even her children would be taught the Raikage's Lightning Armor. 

She skimmed the rest. All she wanted was revenge and a quiet life. 

The next part was blunt: 

A team was en route via *"Elephant Bird"*—ETA two days. Locate the Byakugan wielder and the Nine-Tails jinchūriki. If together, perfect. Lay the scroll on the ground, activate it with blood. Upon capture, blow the whistle. Escape on the bird. 

"Elephant Birds?" 

Giant avians native to Kumo's mountains—700 kilograms, capable of carrying multiple riders. 

"A direct aerial snatch-and-grab?!" 

Risky. Very Kumo. 

But then— 

Her spy-sparrows' latest report flashed in her mind: 

"The Academy's survival exercise. Four days. Remote location. Minimal guards." 

Naruto and Hikari would be together. 

The perfect opportunity. 

(•̀ᴗ•́)و