Naruto: Rise of the Fallen Princess

The sun had barely risen over Konoha, but the Hyūga compound was already restless. Whispers drifted through the courtyards like morning mist.

"I swear it was there," muttered a young servant, nervously rearranging tea sets. "Three of the training scrolls were gone—and when they came back, someone had chewed the corners. Chewed them!"

"It's not the first time," whispered another. "Elder Kento found his sandals filled with cherry blossoms yesterday. And someone scratched a spiral into the floor of the inner meditation room. A perfect spiral."

"Do you think it's a message? Or just bad luck?"

The name wasn't spoken. But a few glanced toward the gate.

<<<< o >>>>

It was late morning in Konoha, and the sun filtered softly through the tall trees that lined the quieter districts of the village. The air was crisp with early spring, and the sound of rustling leaves danced gently alongside the footsteps of two women making their way down a stone-paved street.

Hinata Gin walked with composed grace, she felt the path ahead as she adjusted the sash of her traveling kimono. Beside her, Kurenai Yuhi brimmed with cheerful energy, guiding Hinata with purposeful enthusiasm between clothing shops and artisan storefronts.

"You can't be serious," Kurenai said, her voice half-laughing, half-motherly scolding. "Only one kimono left that fits you properly?"

Hinata offered a soft smile, a slight blush on her cheeks. "A few tore during training in Sunagakure... and Maeko prepared what she could, but—well, I grew faster than expected."

Kurenai nodded knowingly, lifting a beautiful red and gold obi from a rack. "Maeko clearly taught you well. But now that you're here, I'm taking over. By the time we're done, you'll have enough to last your whole journey. Kenshiro can carry it all for you, like always. Honestly, having someone for that is rather convenient."

Behind them, two figures trailed respectfully, keeping a modest distance. Kenshiro's grizzled face was set in quiet focus, but his voice was a whisper, clearly directed at the younger man beside him.

"I can't believe the other three went off to find that Ino girl just because Emi wouldn't shut up about her," he grumbled.

Masaru chuckled, adjusting the strap of his shoulder pack. "I get where you're coming from. But this is Konoha. It's safe. Lady Hinata gave them permission to go."

Kenshiro frowned. "Safe or not, they should be here. I'm more worried about what that mutt is doing. If those pranks she played on the samurai are any indication... that dog's planning something."

Meanwhile, Kurenai waved over an attendant and pulled Hinata toward a collection of seasonal kimonos in pastel tones. Her eyes sparkled with delight.

"This one would look perfect on you. And this! Gods, I missed having someone to dress up. Don't even try to stop me."

Hinata let out a quiet laugh, allowing herself to be swept up in the older woman's joy.

Farther back, Kenshiro shivered slightly.

"Too old for this," he muttered under his breath. "Next time, I'm sending my son on these kinds of missions."

Masaru smirked. "The older one or the younger?"

Kenshiro sighed. "The younger. The elder's too eager to test his new sealing techniques. No judgment. No restraint."

The two samurai continued walking behind their charge, their presence steady and watchful. And though their steps were careful, their bond with Hinata—and the subtle chaos of Konoha—was beginning to show itself in small, memorable ways.

<<<< o >>>>

The moon hung high over Konoha, casting silvery light across the village's tiled rooftops and the cobbled pathways of the quiet district where a cozy restaurant stood tucked between a tea shop and a florist's stall. Its warm paper lanterns flickered gently in the breeze, creating an inviting glow that spilled through its open sliding doors. Inside, laughter and the gentle clink of ceramic cups painted the air with the color of calm joy.

At a corner table near a window, four young warriors enjoyed their meal. Ino Yamanaka sipped tea with an amused smile as she listened to Emi recount one of his more unusual experiences.

"So we were in the Wind Country, negotiating for supplies near one of the outer provinces," Emi began, his tone light. "Things didn't go exactly as planned. Apparently, when you mess up a deal over there, it's tradition they hand you a snail shell. Kind of a passive-aggressive way of saying 'thanks for trying, but no.'"

Souta laughed. "Seriously? They just give you a snail shell?"

"Yep," Emi nodded, holding up two fingers. "I got two. But I kept the smaller one—it had this perfect spiral. Dried it out, polished it a little. I'm giving it to Ino."

Ino blinked, then chuckled. "A consolation prize turned into a gift. That's new."

Ayaka looked from Ino to Souta, raising an eyebrow. "And you? No desert trinkets to share?"

Souta shrugged, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. "Didn't want to give you one of my failures."

"Oh really?" Emi teased, his eyes gleaming. "Then why'd you give her a piece of your broken armor?"

Souta rubbed the back of his head. "That's different. That piece came from the first strike Hinata landed on me that didn't knock me out. It fractured my chestplate, but I stayed standing. I wanted Ayaka to have a piece of that moment."

Ayaka, silent until then, gently touched the medallion hanging around her neck. The chunk of scorched armor embedded in its center gleamed faintly in the lantern light. Her cheeks flushed red.

Just then, a sharp voice cut through the hum of the restaurant.

"What is the meaning of this?"

A tall man stood a few tables away, his pale lavender eyes unmistakably Hyūga. His formal robes were elegant but slightly disheveled, and the scent of sake clung faintly to his breath. He gestured toward Souta's bicep, where a cloth bandana bore a stylized version of the symbol once seen on Hinata's forehead. His eyes then fell on Emi and Ayaka, who bore similar motifs on their garments.

The restaurant hushed. Another Hyūga woman at the man's table reached for his arm, whispering something in his ear. Her tone was firm, clearly trying to de-escalate. But the man waved her off, his expression stern.

Before anyone else could speak, Ino rose from her seat with practiced grace.

"Sir," she said calmly, placing herself between the man and her companions. "The symbol they wear is in honor of someone they care about deeply. They didn't mean any offense. I understand it holds a different meaning for you... so let me offer an apology on their behalf. Perhaps your dinner and that of your companions could be covered by us tonight? And we leave this misunderstanding behind us."

The man frowned, but after a moment's pause, his shoulders eased slightly. With a curt nod, he turned back to his table. The woman beside him gave Ino a small, grateful smile before tugging him down into his seat.

Emi's fists were still clenched under the table. "He raised his voice to you. And to us."

Ino glanced at him sideways, a smile returning. "And he left. That's all that matters."

Souta nodded in agreement. Ayaka still held her medallion, a little more tightly now, as if anchoring herself to Souta's quiet kind of love. The tension faded, and the warmth of the evening began to return.

Outside, the night wind rustled the cherry trees along the road, scattering a few petals across the stone street as the laughter resumed.