Naruto: Rise of the Fallen Princess

The Gin family dojo was filled with the faint scent of oiled wood and incense. Polished floors reflected the soft afternoon light. At its center, Hinata Gin moved with flowing precision, her blade tracing arcs through the air. Before her stood Gorō, massive and solid, yet graceful in motion.

Hinata exhaled softly, shifting from a swift Water Kata into a fiery, driving strike.

Gorō grunted, stepping aside with practiced ease. "Your progress with Water is near instinctual now," he remarked, eyes sharp. "I can see how learning your father's Fire Style has broadened your horizons."

Hinata sheathed her blade momentarily, breathing steady. "It was difficult," she admitted. "I've always favored the adaptability of Water—its shifting forms speak more to me than the force of Fire. But now... after learning from the flame, I understand Water's transformations even more clearly."

Gorō nodded, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "It was the opposite for me," he said. "I mastered Water flow—then sought out Fire. In time, I began to blend them. My own style... still imperfect."

Hinata tilted her head curiously. "What do you call it?"

"The Breath of Scalding Steam," Gorō replied. "But crafting a breathing method that unites Fire and Water is no simple feat. Believe it or not, I'm still deciphering the katas to complement it properly."

Hinata felt thoughtful, her gaze lowering for a moment. Then she asked softly, "Do you think... I should create my own style?"

Gorō's expression grew serious. "It is no easy path. But truthfully—at your level, you are already recognized as a master. Though… that title is a lie. There are no masters, only students. The moment you stop learning, you abandon the way of the sword."

He met her gaze steadily. "You have already begun to forge your own path—in both Fire and Water. Creating your own breathing and katas... is how you make that path yours. And how you honor your ancestors."

The weight of his words struck deep. Hinata could only nod, the thought of a new style taking root in her heart.

<<<< o >>>>

The capital's great courtyard shimmered with early morning mist. Pack horses stood ready. Hinata's companions made final checks on their gear.

At the estate gate, Takama Gin awaited, flanked by Maeko, little Rin clutching her mother's hand, and Taro babbling softly in Maeko's arms. Enshin stood nearby, nodding respectfully.

Hinata approached, dressed for travel, blade at her hip.

Takama greeted her with a faint smile. "Before you depart. News arrived by falcon. The response regarding your Shadow Guard has come—all is arranged."

Hinata's eyes brightened. "I'm glad."

Takama's gaze turned thoughtful. "There is one thing. It will be important that you pass through Mizutani, the trade town near the border. Wait there—your Shadow Guard will contact you before you proceed toward Iwa."

Hinata arched her brow. "And you won't tell me more?"

Takama's lips curled in a rare, knowing smile. "You will understand... when you see them."

Before she could press further, Maeko stepped forward, embracing Hinata tightly. "Travel safe," she whispered. "Come back to us."

Rin tugged on Hinata's sleeve. "Bring stories!"

Hinata knelt, smiling warmly. "Of course."

Enshin offered a respectful bow. "The world watches your path, Lady Hinata. Walk it well."

Hinata bowed in return. "I will."

With a final nod from Takama, the group mounted and rode forth, the road stretching ahead beneath a rising sun.

<<<< o >>>>

The night was clear as crystal when they reached Mizutani's outskirts. Hinata, astride Kuro, led her escort—Emi, his sharp gaze constantly sweeping the road ahead, posture relaxed but every muscle ready to move; Kenshiro, steady and composed, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of his blade, quietly exchanging tactical observations with Emi; Souta Kanbe, his broad frame comfortably balanced in the saddle, letting out a low chuckle now and then as he commented on the steady pace of their mounts; Ayaka Fuyutsuki, subtle and alert, occasionally shifting position to scout the flanks, her eyes sharp beneath her hood.

Beside Hinata on Kuro rode a serene priestess, robes shimmering pale, her presence calm, almost ethereal.

Trailing behind on well-bred mounts, rode Lord Masaru Ishida, ever watchful, occasionally adjusting his gloves as he observed the group with a thoughtful gaze.

By twilight they entered the town, seeking rest at a discreet inn. There, beneath starlight, the party gathered in the courtyard.

As the group dismounted, a light murmur of conversation flowed between them. Souta stretched with a grunt, rolling his shoulders. "A good ride," he said. "But these roads keep you guessing."

Emi gave a small nod. "Plenty of blind turns. I wouldn't trust the quiet too easily."

"No need to," Kenshiro remarked dryly, adjusting the fold of his travel cloak. "The town is still awake beneath its calm face."

Ayaka, returning from a quick circuit of the perimeter, spoke softly. "No immediate signs of pursuit or surveillance. But we should remain watchful tonight."

Hinata listened, appreciating their calm professionalism. Their presence was reassuring—each of them bringing their own strength to the road ahead.

A shadow moved.

From the darkness emerged Jiren, his presence calm yet unmistakable.

"Lady Hinata," he greeted with a respectful incline of his head. "I come with an answer. I am to lead the Shadow Guard during your journey. Our role—to ensure security between the great villages. Should hidden threats arise… we will act."

Hinata blinked, surprised—yet there was no falsehood in his voice. She nodded slowly. "I understand. And I thank you."

Yet even as he spoke, Jiren felt it—the whispered malice of Shikashi's parasite, urging him to strike. Now. She is vulnerable. Strike now...

He shut the voice out, his will unshaken. Not this path. Not now.

His focus sharpened—and caught movement beyond. Fū, standing apart, gaze locked upon him. Her presence was warm, but her jōnin instructor looked far less pleased, murmuring for her to remain back.

Jiren could not help but smile faintly. He gave a subtle nod to Hinata. "Excuse me."

He moved toward the restless pair.

"She means no harm," he assured the instructor softly. "Let me speak to her."

The instructor relented, stepping aside.

Jiren crouched beside Fū, voice gentle. "Patience, I know you want to use this opportunity to make another friend, you'll have the chance. Soon enough, we will walk beside her."

Fū beamed up at him. "I'm glad. She seems nice... but her smell—it reminds me of the Silver Lady."

Jiren blinked in surprise and recognition… his smile deepened, touched with rare warmth.

This path... this is the one I will walk now.

And beneath the starlight, the first true meeting of allies began.