Hikari Kaguya

The next day. 

News of the Uchiha clan's massacre spread instantly throughout Konoha, then rapidly across the entire shinobi world. Nothing could top the sheer shock of this revelation. 

Every villager—young and old—was caught up in heated discussions about the incident. No matter where she went, Hikari overheard whispers and rumors about the Uchiha. 

It was said that the Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, had personally presided over a memorial for the fallen clan. In his speech, he declared: 

"Uchiha Itachi, the so-called genius of the Uchiha, slaughtered his entire family and defected from Konoha. He is the sole perpetrator of this atrocity." 

He emphasized that the Uchiha had co-founded Konoha alongside the Senju, contributing greatly to the village's establishment and military achievements. Yet now, they had met such a tragic end. 

Expressing deep regret, Hiruzen vowed that Konoha would never tolerate such monstrous acts—especially the slaughter of one's own kin. Itachi was branded an S-rank rogue ninja, and the village swore to bring him to justice. 

Of course, all blame was conveniently pinned on Itachi alone. The truth of the Uchiha's planned coup was buried. No one dared question how a single shinobi could wipe out an entire clan overnight without detection. 

But this was the best possible outcome. 

The Uchiha's legacy as village founders remained intact. Konoha itself avoided the stain of exterminating one of its noble clans. The "invincible" Uchiha had fallen—not to an enemy, but to one of their own. In a twisted way, it preserved their final shred of pride. 

The once-bustling Uchiha district now lay silent, filled only with hundreds of corpses—their eyes forever wide in death. The sole survivor? A broken boy. 

Sasuke had been hospitalized. 

Reportedly, the trauma had left him mentally shattered, unable to attend the Academy for the time being. 

Meanwhile, the school's survival training exercise continued—but with a key change. 

What was originally a casual camping trip had now become a true survival test, closer to a formal exam. 

With the Uchiha "threat" gone, life in Konoha seemed to return to normal. 

Flutter… 

A pale-gray swallow swooped over Hikari's head. Nearby, a fat rat darted into its burrow, leaving only its hind legs kicking dirt behind. 

A cold glint flashed through Hikari's Byakugan. 

Something's off with these animals. 

For days, she'd split her time between attending the Academy and locking herself at home, searching for the source of that eerie, lingering sensation of being watched. 

But she'd found nothing—until this morning. 

As she opened her door, she spotted sparrows perched on the fence. A sudden realization struck her. 

Every time I leave the house… there's always some small animal watching. 

Sometimes swallows. Sometimes sparrows. Once, even a black-striped chipmunk clutching a pinecone. 

Once or twice could be coincidence. But every single time? That was deliberate. 

Someone's using these creatures to spy on me. 

Their motives were unclear. Perhaps her Gentle Fist training in the Forest of Death—where wildlife roamed freely—had drawn unwanted attention. 

After school, Hikari walked home, her backpack slung over her shoulder. 

She glanced up at the sparrow perched on her roof again, narrowed her eyes, then pretended not to notice as she stepped inside. 

Once indoors, she activated her Byakugan, tracking the bird's movements. It chirped nervously, fluttered to her window, and peered inside with bulging eyes. 

Through the glass, their gazes met—white eyes locking onto beady black ones. 

So this is the source of the surveillance. 

But that only deepened the mystery. 

No chakra. At all. 

No matter how many times she scanned it, the bird showed zero traces of chakra manipulation. Aside from its odd behavior, it was just a normal animal. 

A technique that controls creatures without chakra? 

…Unbelievable. 

Hikari shook her head. The shinobi world was full of bizarre jutsu, but chakra was always the foundation. Her Byakugan's ability to see chakra had given her an unshakable advantage in intelligence-gathering—so much so that she'd grown dependent on it. 

Not that she could blame herself. 

The Byakugan was too useful. 

Activate it, and everything became clear. Anything with chakra demanded caution; anything without could be ignored. 

If not for these animal spies, she might never have realized this critical weakness in her approach. 

A chilling thought struck her: 

What if, in battle, an enemy used a technique my Byakugan couldn't detect? 

Even Kaguya Ōtsutsuki had fallen to Naruto's Reverse Harem Jutsu. If a goddess could be caught off-guard, so could she. 

Knock-knock— 

Hikari strode to the window. The sparrow flapped away in panic as she yanked the curtains shut. 

She didn't know the stalker's motives. 

But it definitely wasn't an admirer—nor was it ANBU or ROOT. Otherwise, the Third Hokage or Danzō would've already summoned her. 

An enemy, then. 

And a troublesome one. 

Without chakra signatures to track, her Byakugan was useless here. No matter how much she racked her brain, she couldn't devise a foolproof counter. 

Her only option? Lure them out. 

Bait them into making a move, then exploit their mistake. 

In terms of combat ability, she wasn't worried. 

With the Eight Gates, even if she couldn't defeat an elite jōnin, escaping was more than feasible. 

An opponent at Kage-level? 

Unlikely. 

True Kage-tier shinobi were rare—each one a legendary figure from a major village. If her stalker had that kind of power, they would've attacked her in the Forest of Death already. No need for stealth. 

Having reasoned this far, Hikari concluded the risk was manageable. 

Time to go fishing. 

For four days, she played the game. 

She deliberately trained in the Forest of Death, then used her Shikotsumyaku to fake exhaustion—even pretending to collapse from injury. 

Yet the enemy never took the bait. 

Two possibilities: 

They're too cautious (or too weak). Even if she seemed vulnerable, they didn't dare strike. The surveillance isn't real-time. They might not have known her condition at the time. 

Or perhaps both. 

Her stalker might be weaker than expected—lacking both strength and real-time intel. 

Without a face-to-face encounter, she'd already deduced much about them. 

But for now, the fishing plan had failed. 

With no better options, Hikari settled in for a war of attrition. 

Soon, Friday arrived. 

Hikari stood with her classmates at the north gate of Training Ground Zero, ready to begin the three-day survival exercise.