Naruto and Hinata are transported to the world of JJK after the events of The Last: Naruto The Movie
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New Ichiraku Ramen (A Naruto/JJK Crossover Fanfiction)
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Prologue
OnAHiatus
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If someone had told Naruto Uzumaki that just a day after his wedding he would find himself transported to another world with Hinata by his side, he would have laughed, scratched the back of his head, and asked if they had been drinking. Yet one moment they were watching the sunset from their new home in Konoha, the warm breeze on their naked skin, and the next they were standing in the middle of a city that felt and sounded like nothing they had ever seen before.
Tokyo, though they didn't know it by that name at first, was a place unlike anywhere else in the Elemental Nations. Towering buildings stretched toward the clouds, their windows gleaming like mirrors, while metal carriages with glowing eyes raced down paved roads, and people carried small, glowing rectangles that occasionally made odd sounds.
It was beautiful in its way, and the world even seemed peaceful on the surface, yet every so often, Naruto caught a hint of something foul at the edge of his senses. There were monsters here—seemingly invisible to ordinary eyes—ugly in a way neither of the two had ever seen before, and their bodies composed entirely of spiritual energy steeped in negative emotions. They drifted through alleyways and lingered at street corners, their presence alone enough to cause a slow decline in those nearby.
Curses.
They didn't know what they were called, but the energy felt eerily familiar. To Naruto and Kurama, it felt similar enough to dark chakra that Naruto was almost tempted to call it that. But when he realised it had no physical aspect at all, he settled on another name: dark spiritual energy.
Fortunately, the creatures themselves were nothing compared to the monsters they had faced in their own world. Hinata could destroy one with a single palm heel strike, and Naruto barely needed to move a finger to disperse them. After a few days, even facing such new foes lost its novelty.
Their only real concern was figuring out how to get home. They were certain Sasuke would find them eventually—if anyone could track them across dimensions, it would be the bastard—but until then, Naruto decided they might as well make the most of their time here. Hinata, a little shy about calling it what it was, began to think of it as their honeymoon.
"As long as we're together, Naruto-kun," she said one night, her fingers intertwining with his, "we'll be fine."
And for a time, they were.
They explored the city, fascinated by its strangeness. Hinata found beauty in its order, the simplicity of people going about their lives, while Naruto, as always, managed to stand out no matter how hard he tried not to. His bright blond hair, whispered cheeks, and open grin drew attention wherever they went. People turned to stare when he laughed too loudly or called Hinata's name across the street, but he never seemed to notice, or if he did, he didn't care.
The monsters they dealt with quietly, ensuring no one ever saw, not even the civilians they saved. Keeping a low profile came easy enough for the two veterans. What didn't come easily was living in a world without money. There was only so much under-the-table work Naruto's shadow clones could take on before people started noticing the influx of new employees across the city. They needed a stable source of income and fast.
Naruto joked about performing ninjutsu street shows to earn more if the need ever arose, but neither he nor Hinata wanted to attract unnecessary attention, or risk resorting to stealing.
Thankfully, by the end of their first week, they'd managed to scrape together enough for food and a small room in a love hotel. It wasn't much, but it was safe, warm, and most importantly, private. Yet even with their most immediate problems solved, one issue remained, and it was one neither of them knew quite how to fix.
Naruto was starving.
He wasn't starving for lack of food though. He was starving because nothing he ate tasted right.
Naruto had tried every ramen shop he could find across Tokyo, from cramped stalls hidden in train stations to restaurants with long queues and expensive menus. And each time, he would slurp down a bowl, frown, and walk out shaking his head in dismay.
"Man, Hinataaa," he groaned one evening, lying with his head on her lap. "I swear, the ramen here is all wrong. The broth's too light and the noodles are too soft!"
Hinata, as patient as ever, ran her hands through his hair and smiled faintly. "Maybe… you're just homesick, Naruto-kun."
He pouted, the corners of his mouth turning down like a sulking child. "No way! It's not homesick! It's just… it's not the same. Ichiraku's ramen had heart! You could taste the love in every bowl. Here it's like eating fancy water with noodles."
She sighed, brushing a strand of blonde hair behind his ear. He had been saying the same thing for days. But that night, sitting together in their room with nothing but instant noodles and cheap soy sauce, something in her snapped.
"Naruto-kun," she said softly, though her voice carried a rare edge, "if you don't like it so much, then… then maybe you should open your own ramen shop!"
He turned to blinked up at her, mouth sliding open. "Huh?"
"Open one then!" she said again, louder this time, cheeks pink but eyes blazing with determination. "You're always saying Ichiraku's ramen is the best, so show it to them!"
For a moment, Naruto just stared, his expression blank. Then a grin broke across his face, fanged teeth on full display.
"…Hinata," he said, voice filled with admiration, "that's brilliant!"
Her irritation melted at once, replaced by a smile that could have outshone the sun itself.
Two days later, the citizens of Kawasaki discovered a new ramen stall tucked away in a narrow side street. Its wooden sign, hand-painted with neat strokes, simply read: New Ichiraku Ramen.
The stall itself was small, barely large enough for six customers at a time, but the air around it was thick with the scent of rich broth, soy, and grilled chashu. From morning until late at night, the cheerful blond man usually in the kitchen welcomed every visitor with the same infectious enthusiasm, treating strangers like old friends, and offering discounts to keep them coming.
Manning the counter, however, was a woman with dark-blue hair, her every movement graceful and sure, even if she sometimes spoke with a voice too low to be heard. New customers found it odd that she wore sunglasses indoors, but that was quickly forgotten once they tasted the food.
That was the routine: at first, people came out of curiosity, having heard rumors about the ramen shop. Then they returned, again and again. Office workers stopped by for lunch, students gathered after class, and even police officers made excuses to stop by for a quick bowl during their patrols. Before long, it became something of a local secret, a small, hidden place that felt inexplicably warm, and oddly enough, safe.
It didn't matter who you were, or what kind of day you'd had. The moment you sat down and breathed in that familiar, comforting scent, the world outside with its many worries seemed to melt away.
Similarly, no one could explain why the air inside the shop felt… different, almost lighter in comparison to anywhere else. Or for those in the know, why the curses that usually haunted Kawasaki's dark alleys and corners gave the place a wide berth, as if repelled by an unseen barrier.
Naruto and Hinata didn't question their growing popularity. They were simply happy to share a treasured piece of their home with this strange world, to build something that reminded them of what they had left behind. They had no idea that, in doing so, they had created something much greater. A neutral ground of sorts.
A place where the strong and the weak, good and evil, could sit side by side and forget, if only for a meal, that they were ever enemies.
And somewhere halfway across the city, someone with white hair and covered eyes paused mid-step, the faintest hint of confusion tugging his lips down as his eyes pierced through everything else to find the unique energy that felt warm and bright.
"Well," Gojo Satoru murmured to himself, taking off his sunglasses, "this should be interesting."
Tokyo, though they didn't know it by that name at first, was a place unlike anywhere else in the Elemental Nations. Towering buildings stretched toward the clouds, their windows gleaming like mirrors, while metal carriages with glowing eyes raced down paved roads, and people carried small, glowing rectangles that occasionally made odd sounds.
It was beautiful in its way, and the world even seemed peaceful on the surface, yet every so often, Naruto caught a hint of something foul at the edge of his senses. There were monsters here—seemingly invisible to ordinary eyes—ugly in a way neither of the two had ever seen before, and their bodies composed entirely of spiritual energy steeped in negative emotions. They drifted through alleyways and lingered at street corners, their presence alone enough to cause a slow decline in those nearby.
Curses.
They didn't know what they were called, but the energy felt eerily familiar. To Naruto and Kurama, it felt similar enough to dark chakra that Naruto was almost tempted to call it that. But when he realised it had no physical aspect at all, he settled on another name: dark spiritual energy.
Fortunately, the creatures themselves were nothing compared to the monsters they had faced in their own world. Hinata could destroy one with a single palm heel strike, and Naruto barely needed to move a finger to disperse them. After a few days, even facing such new foes lost its novelty.
Their only real concern was figuring out how to get home. They were certain Sasuke would find them eventually—if anyone could track them across dimensions, it would be the bastard—but until then, Naruto decided they might as well make the most of their time here. Hinata, a little shy about calling it what it was, began to think of it as their honeymoon.
"As long as we're together, Naruto-kun," she said one night, her fingers intertwining with his, "we'll be fine."
And for a time, they were.
They explored the city, fascinated by its strangeness. Hinata found beauty in its order, the simplicity of people going about their lives, while Naruto, as always, managed to stand out no matter how hard he tried not to. His bright blond hair, whispered cheeks, and open grin drew attention wherever they went. People turned to stare when he laughed too loudly or called Hinata's name across the street, but he never seemed to notice, or if he did, he didn't care.
The monsters they dealt with quietly, ensuring no one ever saw, not even the civilians they saved. Keeping a low profile came easy enough for the two veterans. What didn't come easily was living in a world without money. There was only so much under-the-table work Naruto's shadow clones could take on before people started noticing the influx of new employees across the city. They needed a stable source of income and fast.
Naruto joked about performing ninjutsu street shows to earn more if the need ever arose, but neither he nor Hinata wanted to attract unnecessary attention, or risk resorting to stealing.
Thankfully, by the end of their first week, they'd managed to scrape together enough for food and a small room in a love hotel. It wasn't much, but it was safe, warm, and most importantly, private. Yet even with their most immediate problems solved, one issue remained, and it was one neither of them knew quite how to fix.
Naruto was starving.
He wasn't starving for lack of food though. He was starving because nothing he ate tasted right.
Naruto had tried every ramen shop he could find across Tokyo, from cramped stalls hidden in train stations to restaurants with long queues and expensive menus. And each time, he would slurp down a bowl, frown, and walk out shaking his head in dismay.
"Man, Hinataaa," he groaned one evening, lying with his head on her lap. "I swear, the ramen here is all wrong. The broth's too light and the noodles are too soft!"
Hinata, as patient as ever, ran her hands through his hair and smiled faintly. "Maybe… you're just homesick, Naruto-kun."
He pouted, the corners of his mouth turning down like a sulking child. "No way! It's not homesick! It's just… it's not the same. Ichiraku's ramen had heart! You could taste the love in every bowl. Here it's like eating fancy water with noodles."
She sighed, brushing a strand of blonde hair behind his ear. He had been saying the same thing for days. But that night, sitting together in their room with nothing but instant noodles and cheap soy sauce, something in her snapped.
"Naruto-kun," she said softly, though her voice carried a rare edge, "if you don't like it so much, then… then maybe you should open your own ramen shop!"
He turned to blinked up at her, mouth sliding open. "Huh?"
"Open one then!" she said again, louder this time, cheeks pink but eyes blazing with determination. "You're always saying Ichiraku's ramen is the best, so show it to them!"
For a moment, Naruto just stared, his expression blank. Then a grin broke across his face, fanged teeth on full display.
"…Hinata," he said, voice filled with admiration, "that's brilliant!"
Her irritation melted at once, replaced by a smile that could have outshone the sun itself.
Two days later, the citizens of Kawasaki discovered a new ramen stall tucked away in a narrow side street. Its wooden sign, hand-painted with neat strokes, simply read: New Ichiraku Ramen.
The stall itself was small, barely large enough for six customers at a time, but the air around it was thick with the scent of rich broth, soy, and grilled chashu. From morning until late at night, the cheerful blond man usually in the kitchen welcomed every visitor with the same infectious enthusiasm, treating strangers like old friends, and offering discounts to keep them coming.
Manning the counter, however, was a woman with dark-blue hair, her every movement graceful and sure, even if she sometimes spoke with a voice too low to be heard. New customers found it odd that she wore sunglasses indoors, but that was quickly forgotten once they tasted the food.
That was the routine: at first, people came out of curiosity, having heard rumors about the ramen shop. Then they returned, again and again. Office workers stopped by for lunch, students gathered after class, and even police officers made excuses to stop by for a quick bowl during their patrols. Before long, it became something of a local secret, a small, hidden place that felt inexplicably warm, and oddly enough, safe.
It didn't matter who you were, or what kind of day you'd had. The moment you sat down and breathed in that familiar, comforting scent, the world outside with its many worries seemed to melt away.
Similarly, no one could explain why the air inside the shop felt… different, almost lighter in comparison to anywhere else. Or for those in the know, why the curses that usually haunted Kawasaki's dark alleys and corners gave the place a wide berth, as if repelled by an unseen barrier.
Naruto and Hinata didn't question their growing popularity. They were simply happy to share a treasured piece of their home with this strange world, to build something that reminded them of what they had left behind. They had no idea that, in doing so, they had created something much greater. A neutral ground of sorts.
A place where the strong and the weak, good and evil, could sit side by side and forget, if only for a meal, that they were ever enemies.
And somewhere halfway across the city, someone with white hair and covered eyes paused mid-step, the faintest hint of confusion tugging his lips down as his eyes pierced through everything else to find the unique energy that felt warm and bright.
"Well," Gojo Satoru murmured to himself, taking off his sunglasses, "this should be interesting."
OnAHiatus
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A naruto crossover where he's not fucking everyone is so rare that I'm genuinely surprised and happy this exists, but this looks fire watched.
I got tired of them too, mate
OnAHiatus
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Kolarthecool
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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I guess people really don't like the OP Naruto Harem fics
Because it's completely out of character for him. Stories with that type of Naruto are just terrible, almost as bad as the ones that do it with Luffy.
OnAHiatus
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Or even Harry Potter, the favoured harem self-insert for some reason.
But yeah, it is soooooo out of character, but it is obvious why many people write stories like that
Kolarthecool
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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The Harry ones are usually fine. The harem situation is normally way too forced but at least Harry as a character is known to show interest in multiple women and even dated a couple on canon.
Yeah, but at that point it's a NINO story and it ruins the whole vibe of the story. Might as well just write it as a self insert fic into Naruto or with Naruto's powers, then it doesn't feel like you're butchering the character as badly as the Boruto sequel did.
This might be first 'Naruto drops into another world after the 4th war' story that doesnt completely erase his romance with Hinata. So good on you
Last edited:
OnAHiatus
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I don't know whether to be happy or sad about this, so I will just be haad
Chapter One
OnAHiatus
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Even though Junpei Yoshino's favorite dish had always been crab omelet on rice, he found himself standing outside New Ichiraku Ramen one quiet evening, staring up at the glowing sign above the narrow stall. The street around him was almost deserted, the last few cars rolling by in lazy intervals while vending machines beeped faintly from the nearby corners. He'd seen the place mentioned online—"The coziest shop in Kawasaki," "Food that feels like home," "A bowl that heals the heart"—but he hadn't believed a word of it.
After all, he didn't believe in people anymore.
Humans, as far as he was concerned, were cruel by nature, selfish, and shallow. They smiled as they lied, laughed while they hurt you, and turned away when you reached out for help. It wasn't even anger that drove the thought, but a tired resignation. The world was like that. People were like that. So why was he here, standing in front of a ramen stall that seemed to promise warmth and kindness? Maybe because the silence of his room had begun to feel too heavy, and the thought of sitting somewhere that smelled like comfort, somewhere where no one knew his name, or what he'd been through, was something he could handle, if only for a while.
The stall itself wasn't big. There were only six seats lined neatly along the counter, their wooden surfaces polished but already worn. It wasn't the kind of place he'd normally step into, not when he hated being close to strangers. But it was late, close enough to closing time that he could hope for an empty counter, fewer eyes, and fewer whispers pointed his way. The last thing he needed was to run into one of his former classmates, or worse, one of the people who used to laugh as they pressed lit cigarettes to his skin.
He lingered a moment longer before sliding open the curtain, guilt already tugging at him for arriving so late. He didn't really want to inconvenience anyone, despite his indifference. But before he could apologize, a gentle voice broke the silence.
"Good evening. Please, come in."
The woman behind the counter was unlike anyone he'd ever seen. Her long, dark-blue hair was tied neatly behind her, and a pair of round glasses rested on the bridge of her nose, concealing her eyes. Yet somehow, he could feel her gaze on him. And when she smiled at him, it wasn't the forced, professional kind that customer service workers wore like a mask. It was warm, genuine, and so effortlessly sincere that it caught him off guard.
"I—I know it's almost closing," Junpei mumbled, eyes dropping to the floor. "If you're done for the day, I can just—"
"It's no trouble at all," she cut him off with the gentlest of tones. "You must be hungry."
Something in the way she spoke made it impossible to argue. He nodded without meaning to.
"Please, have a seat," she continued, motioning toward the counter. Her movements were done with an ease that didn't quite make sense, making him forget to question how she could move so gracefully if she was really blind. "My husband will be with you in just a moment. I'm Hinata Uzumaki."
He sat carefully, unsure where to put his hands. "Junpei," he said after a pause. "Junpei Yoshino."
"Junpei-kun," she repeated, and somehow made it sound like a term of endearment. "That's a nice name."
It should've made him feel awkward, but somehow it didn't. There was something about her tone, about the calm air that surrounded her, that eased the tension in his chest that had long since become second nature. For the first time in a long while, he didn't feel like he had to defend himself or brace himself for ridicule or judgment.
She moved behind the counter, pouring him a glass of water and setting it before him. When their hands nearly touched, he noticed the roughness of her fingertips, the faint callouses that didn't quite fit with her gentle demeanor. And through the faint reflection of her glasses, he thought he saw her eyes—pale, almost lavender—watching him with a strange kind of knowing. They weren't blind, he realized. If anything, it felt as though she saw too much.
He looked away quickly, embarrassed by the thought.
Then, without meaning to, he started to talk. Maybe it was the warmth of the place, or the way Hinata listened without interruption or pity, or maybe it was because he was so tired of feeling this way. Whatever the reason, once he started—clumsy at first, then faster, tumbling over one another like they'd been waiting years to escape—he couldn't stop.
He spoke about school, about the boys who pinned him down and burned him with their cigarettes, about the teachers who looked away, and about the adults who shrugged and told him to toughen up. He spoke about the long days that followed, the hours he spent hidden beneath his blankets, waiting for the world to forget he existed.
And then he spoke about his mother. He told her about the smell of cigarettes in their apartment, the empty cans by the window, and his displeasure at her irresponsibility. He told her how, no matter how tired she was, she always made his favorite dish whenever he'd had a bad day, and how she'd stay up watching movies with him, laughing at parts that weren't even funny, just to see him smile again.
By the time he finished, his throat ached, and his vision blurred. He hadn't realized he'd been crying until he felt the tears cool against his cheeks.
When he looked up, Hinata was still standing there, silent and kind, her hands folded neatly before her. She didn't tell him everything would be alright, or that things would get better, or that he had to forgive anyone. She just said, "You've been through a lot, haven't you?"
Something about that simple sentence broke the last of his defenses, and he let out a shaky laugh, rubbing at his eyes. "Sorry. I didn't mean to dump all that on a stranger."
"You're not the first," she said, smiling softly. "And you won't be the last."
It was then he noticed the man behind the counter, tall and broad-shouldered, with blond hair that seemed almost golden in the light. His eyes were the brightest blue he'd ever seen, the kind of blue that reminded him of summer skies and warmth he hadn't felt in years. And there was an energy about him, something undeniably powerful and alive.
"Yo!" the man said cheerfully, flashing a grin wide enough to light up the night. "Heard everything. Sorry if it sounded like eavesdropping, but the shop's kinda small, y'know?"
Junpei stiffened, uncertain whether to feel embarrassed or offended, but before he could say anything, the man slid a steaming bowl toward him.
"Eat up! It's on the house tonight."
The scent reached him first: rich, savory, and faintly sweet with the distinct aroma of crab and egg. He couldn't believe his eyes. "Is this…?"
"Crab omelet on rice," the man said with a wink and a knowing smile. "A little special I whipped up while you were talking. Figured it was what you needed."
Junpei blinked at him in disbelief. "How did you—?"
"Call it intuition," Naruto said, scratching the back of his head with a grin.
He hesitated only for a moment before picking up his chopsticks, afraid it wouldn't live up to the memory of his mother's cooking, and ruin what was shaping up to be a good night. But the first bite melted away that fear entirely. The flavor, the warmth, and even the texture was perfect, comforting, and familiar in a way that shouldn't have been possible.
By the time the bowl was empty, he realized his chest didn't feel as tight anymore. The bitterness and resentment were still there, buried deep, but for the first time, they didn't feel suffocating.
He looked up, ready to thank them, but Hinata spoke first.
"As my husband said, you don't need to pay tonight," she said kindly. "Consider it a welcome gift."
Naruto leaned against the counter, studying him with a thoughtful look. Then, in a tone that was both casual and deeply sincere, he said,
"I can heal your scars for you, ya know."
The words struck Junpei like a blow. His breath caught, and instinctively, his hand brushed against the side of his face.
"What?"
Naruto's smile softened, though his eyes didn't lose their warmth. "Those burns on your face," he said. "I can fix them for no charge. Just think about it."
For a long moment, Junpei couldn't speak. A mess of emotions tangled inside him, disbelief, fear, anger, and something that felt dangerously close to hope. He didn't understand how someone could say something so impossible, so easily, and still sound so certain. But when he met Naruto's gaze, he saw no mockery there or pity, only quiet confidence and an unwavering kindness that made his chest ache.
For the first time in years, someone had looked at him not as a victim, or a problem to be ignored, but simply as a person worth helping.
His lips trembled, and before he could stop himself, the tears came again, though loud and unrestrained this time. He bowed his head, shoulders shaking, and though he couldn't find the words to thank them, he knew they understood.
After all, he didn't believe in people anymore.
Humans, as far as he was concerned, were cruel by nature, selfish, and shallow. They smiled as they lied, laughed while they hurt you, and turned away when you reached out for help. It wasn't even anger that drove the thought, but a tired resignation. The world was like that. People were like that. So why was he here, standing in front of a ramen stall that seemed to promise warmth and kindness? Maybe because the silence of his room had begun to feel too heavy, and the thought of sitting somewhere that smelled like comfort, somewhere where no one knew his name, or what he'd been through, was something he could handle, if only for a while.
The stall itself wasn't big. There were only six seats lined neatly along the counter, their wooden surfaces polished but already worn. It wasn't the kind of place he'd normally step into, not when he hated being close to strangers. But it was late, close enough to closing time that he could hope for an empty counter, fewer eyes, and fewer whispers pointed his way. The last thing he needed was to run into one of his former classmates, or worse, one of the people who used to laugh as they pressed lit cigarettes to his skin.
He lingered a moment longer before sliding open the curtain, guilt already tugging at him for arriving so late. He didn't really want to inconvenience anyone, despite his indifference. But before he could apologize, a gentle voice broke the silence.
"Good evening. Please, come in."
The woman behind the counter was unlike anyone he'd ever seen. Her long, dark-blue hair was tied neatly behind her, and a pair of round glasses rested on the bridge of her nose, concealing her eyes. Yet somehow, he could feel her gaze on him. And when she smiled at him, it wasn't the forced, professional kind that customer service workers wore like a mask. It was warm, genuine, and so effortlessly sincere that it caught him off guard.
"I—I know it's almost closing," Junpei mumbled, eyes dropping to the floor. "If you're done for the day, I can just—"
"It's no trouble at all," she cut him off with the gentlest of tones. "You must be hungry."
Something in the way she spoke made it impossible to argue. He nodded without meaning to.
"Please, have a seat," she continued, motioning toward the counter. Her movements were done with an ease that didn't quite make sense, making him forget to question how she could move so gracefully if she was really blind. "My husband will be with you in just a moment. I'm Hinata Uzumaki."
He sat carefully, unsure where to put his hands. "Junpei," he said after a pause. "Junpei Yoshino."
"Junpei-kun," she repeated, and somehow made it sound like a term of endearment. "That's a nice name."
It should've made him feel awkward, but somehow it didn't. There was something about her tone, about the calm air that surrounded her, that eased the tension in his chest that had long since become second nature. For the first time in a long while, he didn't feel like he had to defend himself or brace himself for ridicule or judgment.
She moved behind the counter, pouring him a glass of water and setting it before him. When their hands nearly touched, he noticed the roughness of her fingertips, the faint callouses that didn't quite fit with her gentle demeanor. And through the faint reflection of her glasses, he thought he saw her eyes—pale, almost lavender—watching him with a strange kind of knowing. They weren't blind, he realized. If anything, it felt as though she saw too much.
He looked away quickly, embarrassed by the thought.
Then, without meaning to, he started to talk. Maybe it was the warmth of the place, or the way Hinata listened without interruption or pity, or maybe it was because he was so tired of feeling this way. Whatever the reason, once he started—clumsy at first, then faster, tumbling over one another like they'd been waiting years to escape—he couldn't stop.
He spoke about school, about the boys who pinned him down and burned him with their cigarettes, about the teachers who looked away, and about the adults who shrugged and told him to toughen up. He spoke about the long days that followed, the hours he spent hidden beneath his blankets, waiting for the world to forget he existed.
And then he spoke about his mother. He told her about the smell of cigarettes in their apartment, the empty cans by the window, and his displeasure at her irresponsibility. He told her how, no matter how tired she was, she always made his favorite dish whenever he'd had a bad day, and how she'd stay up watching movies with him, laughing at parts that weren't even funny, just to see him smile again.
By the time he finished, his throat ached, and his vision blurred. He hadn't realized he'd been crying until he felt the tears cool against his cheeks.
When he looked up, Hinata was still standing there, silent and kind, her hands folded neatly before her. She didn't tell him everything would be alright, or that things would get better, or that he had to forgive anyone. She just said, "You've been through a lot, haven't you?"
Something about that simple sentence broke the last of his defenses, and he let out a shaky laugh, rubbing at his eyes. "Sorry. I didn't mean to dump all that on a stranger."
"You're not the first," she said, smiling softly. "And you won't be the last."
It was then he noticed the man behind the counter, tall and broad-shouldered, with blond hair that seemed almost golden in the light. His eyes were the brightest blue he'd ever seen, the kind of blue that reminded him of summer skies and warmth he hadn't felt in years. And there was an energy about him, something undeniably powerful and alive.
"Yo!" the man said cheerfully, flashing a grin wide enough to light up the night. "Heard everything. Sorry if it sounded like eavesdropping, but the shop's kinda small, y'know?"
Junpei stiffened, uncertain whether to feel embarrassed or offended, but before he could say anything, the man slid a steaming bowl toward him.
"Eat up! It's on the house tonight."
The scent reached him first: rich, savory, and faintly sweet with the distinct aroma of crab and egg. He couldn't believe his eyes. "Is this…?"
"Crab omelet on rice," the man said with a wink and a knowing smile. "A little special I whipped up while you were talking. Figured it was what you needed."
Junpei blinked at him in disbelief. "How did you—?"
"Call it intuition," Naruto said, scratching the back of his head with a grin.
He hesitated only for a moment before picking up his chopsticks, afraid it wouldn't live up to the memory of his mother's cooking, and ruin what was shaping up to be a good night. But the first bite melted away that fear entirely. The flavor, the warmth, and even the texture was perfect, comforting, and familiar in a way that shouldn't have been possible.
By the time the bowl was empty, he realized his chest didn't feel as tight anymore. The bitterness and resentment were still there, buried deep, but for the first time, they didn't feel suffocating.
He looked up, ready to thank them, but Hinata spoke first.
"As my husband said, you don't need to pay tonight," she said kindly. "Consider it a welcome gift."
Naruto leaned against the counter, studying him with a thoughtful look. Then, in a tone that was both casual and deeply sincere, he said,
"I can heal your scars for you, ya know."
The words struck Junpei like a blow. His breath caught, and instinctively, his hand brushed against the side of his face.
"What?"
Naruto's smile softened, though his eyes didn't lose their warmth. "Those burns on your face," he said. "I can fix them for no charge. Just think about it."
For a long moment, Junpei couldn't speak. A mess of emotions tangled inside him, disbelief, fear, anger, and something that felt dangerously close to hope. He didn't understand how someone could say something so impossible, so easily, and still sound so certain. But when he met Naruto's gaze, he saw no mockery there or pity, only quiet confidence and an unwavering kindness that made his chest ache.
For the first time in years, someone had looked at him not as a victim, or a problem to be ignored, but simply as a person worth helping.
His lips trembled, and before he could stop himself, the tears came again, though loud and unrestrained this time. He bowed his head, shoulders shaking, and though he couldn't find the words to thank them, he knew they understood.
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Of course. Naruto, himself, is a ball of sunshine and warmth
Chapter Two
New
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Yuji listened with an open and quiet interest as Junpei recounted the night before. They were sitting together on the low concrete ledge near the vending machines by the station, one of the few places Yuji felt comfortable enough to talk without glancing over his shoulder every few seconds. The evening crowds had begun to thin, leaving behind the muted sounds of traffic and the occasional chatter from people making their way home.
He found himself appreciating the moment more than he expected. It felt normal. And normal had become something he cherished ever since he had swallowed Sukuna's finger and been dragged into a world where death, fear, and cruelty lingered in places only sorcerers could see.
Junpei did not seem the type to initiate conversations. But it seemed whatever had happened at the ramen shop had eased something within him, something that had been painfully taut for far too long. He looked the same, but he carried himself with a subtle lightness, as if a burden had lessened just enough for him to breathe a little easier.
"So… this ramen place," Yuji said, leaning back on his hands. "You really think the owner meant it when he said he could heal your scars?"
Junpei nodded, although the gesture lacked certainty. "He didn't sound like he was joking. And his wife was really kind. I mean… people don't usually look at me like that, like they already understood everything I've been through." He paused, swallowed, and stared at the ground. His voice grew faint. "It didn't feel fake."
Yuji wanted to accept that without hesitation. He wanted to believe that there were still people in the world capable of selfless kindness. But the moment he heard the word, heal, all his instincts—recently sharpened by his training, curses, his near execution, and the memory of Sukuna's laughter as he died—began blaring warning signs.
Healing was not normal.
Healing freely, without a cost, was not normal.
Healing offered casually by strangers who ran a tiny yet absurdly successful shop that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere was definitely not normal.
And in Yuji's limited but growing understanding, people who were not normal tended to fall into two categories. They were either sorcerers… or curse users. Neither option made him feel comfortable.
The problem was not that Junpei was ignorant. In truth, Junpei had seen and been through far more than most people his age should have. He had met a curse, he had spoken to one, and he knew just how dangerous they could be.
But even with that painful knowledge, Junpei still did not understand the world Yuji was now part of. He did not know the terminology or the hierarchies or the strange logic that governed jujutsu sorcerers. He did not know why Yuji moved the way he did at times, could not explain how he did what he did, or why he reacted so sensitively to certain topics before smoothing the moment over with a bright smile that hid more than it revealed.
And all of that was because Junpei had never told Yuji the full truth. He had only offered the version of the story he felt safe sharing, the lie that he had only recently begun seeing curses. It was easier than admitting the depth of his bitterness, or how long he had carried his loneliness without someone to talk to.
His experiences with negativity had taught him fear, resentment, and caution, but they had never taught him clarity. And perhaps because of that, or perhaps in spite of it, he held tightly to any moment of love that came his way. He was grateful that someone had treated him with kindness, without cruelty or judgment, and without making him feel small or foolish or unworthy of it. Relieved, even, to be spoken to as though he mattered.
How could Yuji possibly take that away from him?
"Well," Yuji said slowly, trying to keep his tone level, "I'm really glad they treated you well. Honestly, that makes me happy. But people who can just fix things like that… it sounds a little sketchy to me."
Junpei tensed. It was a small change, but Yuji noticed it immediately, the way Junpei pulled slightly inward as though bracing himself for disappointment.
"I knew you would say something like that," he murmured.
"No, wait, I'm not saying they're bad," Yuji said quickly, waving both hands in front of him in a frantic gesture. "It's just that I've seen a lot of things recently that look harmless but aren't. And healing like that is not something I've ever seen done casually."
Junpei's expression softened, although not entirely. Yuji understood. Life had not given Junpei many reasons to trust people's motives, and though this one seemed too good to be true, he was willing to take that risk and hope. Still, the uncertainty remained. Yuji could not ignore the possibility that something dangerous might be lurking behind the friendly facade Junpei had seen.
He thought about Gojo-sensei. Telling him seemed like the sensible thing to do. A stranger offering to heal scars for free was suspicious in ways he couldn't ignore, and Gojo was, well… Gojo. If anyone could look at a situation and immediately know whether it was dangerous, it was him.
But Yuji already knew how that conversation would go.
Gojo-sensei would probably shrug, and it would not be because he did not care, but because he only involved himself in situations that genuinely interested him. If he had not looked into the ramen shop already—and Yuji was almost certain he knew about it—then he either knew exactly what was going on and saw no threat, or he simply did not consider it worth his time.
That thought eased some of Yuji's worry, but it also irritated him. Gojo's definition of not a threat usually meant not capable of harming Gojo Satoru, which covered almost everything in existence.
So Yuji would have to handle this himself.
He decided he would bring Megumi and Nobara with him. They were capable, perceptive in their own ways, also more knowledgeable, and wouldn't overlook anything even slightly unusual. But Yuji was not supposed to contact either of them yet. Officially, he was still dead, kept hidden for reasons that remained half-explained, though Yuji had already guessed most of them.
Still, this situation felt like a reasonable excuse to break the rules.
He could already imagine Gojo-sensei's amused grin if he ever found out. "Wow, I didn't know you were capable of being sneaky. Good job."
Yuji groaned inwardly at the thought. But there was no denying he needed backup, and checking out the ramen shop with them seemed like the safest option. Junpei deserved that. He deserved people willing to look out for him, even if he didn't believe he was worth the effort.
Beside him, Junpei released a small breath, something that hovered close to relief. It made Yuji's chest tighten with determination.
He would figure this out. No matter what Gojo-sensei or Nanami or anyone else thought, and no matter how many rules he had to break, he would not let anything happen to Junpei.
Before Yuji could say anything else, he heard footsteps approaching. They were light and unhurried, accompanied by a faint yet pleasant floral perfume, and the acrid smell of lit cigarettes. He looked up and saw a woman with wavy hair and a beautiful smile walking toward them, a grocery bag held securely against her hip.
"Junpei?" she called warmly. "There you are. I was wondering where you ran off to."
Junpei straightened at once, quickly brushing at his face even though there were no tears to hide.
"Mom... I was just talking with Yuji."
She brightened. "Ah, is this your new friend? It is nice to meet you, sweetie."
Yuji flushed with embarrassment, scratching at the back of his head. "O-Oh, it is nice to meet you too."
She looked between them with a soft, pleased curiosity. "I bumped into some interesting people on the way back. A young couple; They helped pick up the groceries I dropped. The wife had the loveliest eyes behind her glasses." She tapped at her cigarette as she crossed her arms, looking thoughtful. "They told me to stop by their ramen shop anytime."
Yuji froze.
Junpei's mother continued without noticing anything out of place, humming as she shifted the bag to her other arm. "Let me see… what was the name again?"
"New Ichiraku Ramen?" Yuji asked, trying to sound casual even though something tightened uneasily inside him.
"Yes, that is the one," Junpei's mother said with a cheerful nod. Junpei offered her a faint smile, but Yuji forced his own to make himself look relaxed and unconcerned.
The ramen shop was quickly forgotten as Junpei chastised his mother for smoking, but even that exchange couldn't sway Yuji from the troubling question that brewed in his head:
Was it just him or did the ramen shop and its owners seem all of a sudden ever-present?
He found himself appreciating the moment more than he expected. It felt normal. And normal had become something he cherished ever since he had swallowed Sukuna's finger and been dragged into a world where death, fear, and cruelty lingered in places only sorcerers could see.
Junpei did not seem the type to initiate conversations. But it seemed whatever had happened at the ramen shop had eased something within him, something that had been painfully taut for far too long. He looked the same, but he carried himself with a subtle lightness, as if a burden had lessened just enough for him to breathe a little easier.
"So… this ramen place," Yuji said, leaning back on his hands. "You really think the owner meant it when he said he could heal your scars?"
Junpei nodded, although the gesture lacked certainty. "He didn't sound like he was joking. And his wife was really kind. I mean… people don't usually look at me like that, like they already understood everything I've been through." He paused, swallowed, and stared at the ground. His voice grew faint. "It didn't feel fake."
Yuji wanted to accept that without hesitation. He wanted to believe that there were still people in the world capable of selfless kindness. But the moment he heard the word, heal, all his instincts—recently sharpened by his training, curses, his near execution, and the memory of Sukuna's laughter as he died—began blaring warning signs.
Healing was not normal.
Healing freely, without a cost, was not normal.
Healing offered casually by strangers who ran a tiny yet absurdly successful shop that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere was definitely not normal.
And in Yuji's limited but growing understanding, people who were not normal tended to fall into two categories. They were either sorcerers… or curse users. Neither option made him feel comfortable.
The problem was not that Junpei was ignorant. In truth, Junpei had seen and been through far more than most people his age should have. He had met a curse, he had spoken to one, and he knew just how dangerous they could be.
But even with that painful knowledge, Junpei still did not understand the world Yuji was now part of. He did not know the terminology or the hierarchies or the strange logic that governed jujutsu sorcerers. He did not know why Yuji moved the way he did at times, could not explain how he did what he did, or why he reacted so sensitively to certain topics before smoothing the moment over with a bright smile that hid more than it revealed.
And all of that was because Junpei had never told Yuji the full truth. He had only offered the version of the story he felt safe sharing, the lie that he had only recently begun seeing curses. It was easier than admitting the depth of his bitterness, or how long he had carried his loneliness without someone to talk to.
His experiences with negativity had taught him fear, resentment, and caution, but they had never taught him clarity. And perhaps because of that, or perhaps in spite of it, he held tightly to any moment of love that came his way. He was grateful that someone had treated him with kindness, without cruelty or judgment, and without making him feel small or foolish or unworthy of it. Relieved, even, to be spoken to as though he mattered.
How could Yuji possibly take that away from him?
"Well," Yuji said slowly, trying to keep his tone level, "I'm really glad they treated you well. Honestly, that makes me happy. But people who can just fix things like that… it sounds a little sketchy to me."
Junpei tensed. It was a small change, but Yuji noticed it immediately, the way Junpei pulled slightly inward as though bracing himself for disappointment.
"I knew you would say something like that," he murmured.
"No, wait, I'm not saying they're bad," Yuji said quickly, waving both hands in front of him in a frantic gesture. "It's just that I've seen a lot of things recently that look harmless but aren't. And healing like that is not something I've ever seen done casually."
Junpei's expression softened, although not entirely. Yuji understood. Life had not given Junpei many reasons to trust people's motives, and though this one seemed too good to be true, he was willing to take that risk and hope. Still, the uncertainty remained. Yuji could not ignore the possibility that something dangerous might be lurking behind the friendly facade Junpei had seen.
He thought about Gojo-sensei. Telling him seemed like the sensible thing to do. A stranger offering to heal scars for free was suspicious in ways he couldn't ignore, and Gojo was, well… Gojo. If anyone could look at a situation and immediately know whether it was dangerous, it was him.
But Yuji already knew how that conversation would go.
Gojo-sensei would probably shrug, and it would not be because he did not care, but because he only involved himself in situations that genuinely interested him. If he had not looked into the ramen shop already—and Yuji was almost certain he knew about it—then he either knew exactly what was going on and saw no threat, or he simply did not consider it worth his time.
That thought eased some of Yuji's worry, but it also irritated him. Gojo's definition of not a threat usually meant not capable of harming Gojo Satoru, which covered almost everything in existence.
So Yuji would have to handle this himself.
He decided he would bring Megumi and Nobara with him. They were capable, perceptive in their own ways, also more knowledgeable, and wouldn't overlook anything even slightly unusual. But Yuji was not supposed to contact either of them yet. Officially, he was still dead, kept hidden for reasons that remained half-explained, though Yuji had already guessed most of them.
Still, this situation felt like a reasonable excuse to break the rules.
He could already imagine Gojo-sensei's amused grin if he ever found out. "Wow, I didn't know you were capable of being sneaky. Good job."
Yuji groaned inwardly at the thought. But there was no denying he needed backup, and checking out the ramen shop with them seemed like the safest option. Junpei deserved that. He deserved people willing to look out for him, even if he didn't believe he was worth the effort.
Beside him, Junpei released a small breath, something that hovered close to relief. It made Yuji's chest tighten with determination.
He would figure this out. No matter what Gojo-sensei or Nanami or anyone else thought, and no matter how many rules he had to break, he would not let anything happen to Junpei.
Before Yuji could say anything else, he heard footsteps approaching. They were light and unhurried, accompanied by a faint yet pleasant floral perfume, and the acrid smell of lit cigarettes. He looked up and saw a woman with wavy hair and a beautiful smile walking toward them, a grocery bag held securely against her hip.
"Junpei?" she called warmly. "There you are. I was wondering where you ran off to."
Junpei straightened at once, quickly brushing at his face even though there were no tears to hide.
"Mom... I was just talking with Yuji."
She brightened. "Ah, is this your new friend? It is nice to meet you, sweetie."
Yuji flushed with embarrassment, scratching at the back of his head. "O-Oh, it is nice to meet you too."
She looked between them with a soft, pleased curiosity. "I bumped into some interesting people on the way back. A young couple; They helped pick up the groceries I dropped. The wife had the loveliest eyes behind her glasses." She tapped at her cigarette as she crossed her arms, looking thoughtful. "They told me to stop by their ramen shop anytime."
Yuji froze.
Junpei's mother continued without noticing anything out of place, humming as she shifted the bag to her other arm. "Let me see… what was the name again?"
"New Ichiraku Ramen?" Yuji asked, trying to sound casual even though something tightened uneasily inside him.
"Yes, that is the one," Junpei's mother said with a cheerful nod. Junpei offered her a faint smile, but Yuji forced his own to make himself look relaxed and unconcerned.
The ramen shop was quickly forgotten as Junpei chastised his mother for smoking, but even that exchange couldn't sway Yuji from the troubling question that brewed in his head:
Was it just him or did the ramen shop and its owners seem all of a sudden ever-present?
OnAHiatus
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Yuji going paranoid over auto and Hinata, meanwhile they just vibing and being wholesome
That's just how it's gonna be: NaruHina scaring people by just being themselves
sideface
Face The Side
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Believe it Dattebayo
Chapter Three
New
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Hinata had grown accustomed to the strange hustle and bustle of this new world. The people moved about with a kind of weary determination that reminded her of Konoha in the days following long missions, when everyone pushed forward despite an exhaustion no one spoke of. The streets of Kawasaki City were alive with noise and activities, and though everything appeared ordinary at a glance, there was a constant undercurrent of tension beneath it all that she could never quite name.
Beneath the glow of streetlights, the crowded walkways, and the squeals of tires was something undeniably evil.
The creatures made of dark spiritual energy—Naruto's term for them, since neither of them had found anyone they trusted enough to ask—were far less common in this part of Kawasaki. Yet unlike the ones she had faced previously, these did not drift aimlessly or choose their victims at random. Every single one she had seen was moving toward the same direction, as though compelled by an unseen force.
It was an unusual pattern, and one far too consistent to ignore. So for the past two days she and Naruto had tracked the creatures' movements whenever they found time between their acts of assistance throughout the city. A misplaced wallet discreetly returned to its owner, a bike chain repaired before its owner even realized what had happened, a frightened child guided back to her worried parents, and more recently, groceries gathered from the street after someone had dropped them in a moment of distraction. These small gestures had also become their way of making the city without drawing unnecessary attention. They acted with care, always mindful of how much to reveal and how much to hold back.
Yet even as they tried to help whom they could, they continued to observe. No matter the day or the hour, the creatures didn't deviate from this new pattern.
Their new life, however, came with its own responsibilities, and balancing them was never simple. Running New Ichiraku Ramen demanded most of their time, and their search for answers about this world could not be abandoned either. They couldn't afford to chase after every odd discovery together.
But there was something about this particular situation that tugged at Hinata's instincts with growing urgency. So while Naruto headed back to the shop, insisting with a grin he could handle the evening crowd on his own, Hinata took a deep breath, tightened her resolve, and set out alone to follow the creatures' trail.
She knew she was capable enough to deal with anything that came her way. And if need be, a large expulsion of her chakra would get Naruto running to her in an instant. Even so, caution remained sensible. She refused to fall into the trap of underestimating new enemies just because older ones had once overshadowed her. She had grown too much, learned too much, and survived too much to allow complacency to take root now.
Hinata activated her Byakugan, and veins bulged at the sides of her head as her vision expanded far beyond its physical limits. The faint spiritual residue the creatures left behind stood out within her sight, guiding her toward their destination. But it led not to a hidden lair or cursed temple, but to a simple, unremarkable house.
The building was plain in every respect. Its beige exterior resembled countless others on the street, its windows were drawn shut, and its small garden was neatly kept but ultimately forgettable. But the moment Hinata focused her vision on it, she saw that something within the house radiated power.
Naruto had always been better at distinguishing chakra signatures from others, especially when negative emotions were involved. She had never possessed his sensitivity in that regard and often assumed she never would be able to feel what he described. Yet here, for the first time, she felt the dark spiritual energy pressure in a way that went beyond sight.
At a distance, it resembled the energy of the creatures themselves. But as she concentrated, she sensed subtle differences in addition to the malevolence saturating the home. The oppressive force spilled from a single point within the building, and she instinctively pushed her vision further.
The source revealed itself almost immediately.
A mummified finger, shriveled and ancient, sat on a low wooden table beside a sleeping woman.
Hinata's breath caught in her chest. That innocuous-looking thing was pouring out a monstrous, suffocating energy that devoured the house from within. It was overwhelming, wrong in every possible way, and so powerful that the creatures had been drawn to it like starving animals.
It could easily have been a trap. Yet the woman beside it appeared neither malicious nor feigning sleep. Her breathing was slow and peaceful, her posture relaxed, and she seemed utterly unaware of the danger only inches away from her. Why she would rest beside something so clearly vile was anyone's guess.
Hinata was still considering this when she saw three creatures phasing through the walls of the house. One walked, another dragged itself forward with grotesquely elongated limbs, and the third slithered like a snake across the floorboards. All of them moved toward the sleeping woman with widening jaws and sharpened claws.
Putting aside the questions, Hinata channeled chakra through her legs and launched herself toward the house. The window shattered around her as she shielded her face with her forearms, rolling across the floor and coming to a crouch beside the woman just as the sound jolted her awake.
Before confusion could turn into panic, Hinata struck the woman's tenketsu, sending her into an immediate unconsciousness. "Forgive me," she murmured softly. The upcoming fight would go a lot smoother if she didn't have to worry about a panicking civilian ruining things.
She pulled the woman from her chair just as the creature with the impossibly wide mouth lunged. Its jagged teeth clamped down on splintering wood instead of flesh.
It turned toward her, but she was already moving. With a single fluid motion she lifted the unconscious woman over her shoulder, swept the cursed finger into her free hand, and drove her heel into the creature's torso. The blow struck with enough force to blast it through the outer wall and into the street, taking the second creature with it as it failed to move aside in time.
Hinata followed immediately, slipping through the hole in the wall before the dust could settle. The third creature, a bloated mass with grotesquely large hands, swiped at her with a force that could have torn a car in half. She bent low, letting the attack pass over her head, and once again gathered chakra in her legs.
One leap carried her to the rooftop. The tiles creaked beneath her sandals, but she barely made any sound as she laid the woman down with care before stepping away to draw the creatures' attention.
She did not need to worry about the woman now. The creatures had no interest in her; their focus was entirely on the cursed finger in Hinata's possession, which was both a relief and an eerie reminder of how dangerous the object truly was.
Once she felt certain she had lured them far enough from any civilians, Hinata slipped the finger into her pocket. She then lifted her arms and settled into the low, characteristic stance of the Gentle Fist.
These creatures were not living beings. They had no organs she could shut down, and no chakra pathway system she could target. Yet she and Naruto had learned through careful experimentation that her chakra could still tear through them. Whatever they were really made of, it was close enough to chakra that her techniques tore through them with ease.
But since they lacked chakra pathways, she no longer needed the Byakugan. The muscles in her face relaxed as the dojutsu faded from her eyes, though her posture remained ready. She inhaled slowly, her face the picture of concentration as the creatures closed in from ervy direction with murderous intent.
And even as she prepared for the fight to begin, even as the rooftop trembled beneath her and the air thickened with their killing intent, Hinata still found her thoughts drifting toward her husband.
She wondered what Naruto was doing right now.
Beneath the glow of streetlights, the crowded walkways, and the squeals of tires was something undeniably evil.
The creatures made of dark spiritual energy—Naruto's term for them, since neither of them had found anyone they trusted enough to ask—were far less common in this part of Kawasaki. Yet unlike the ones she had faced previously, these did not drift aimlessly or choose their victims at random. Every single one she had seen was moving toward the same direction, as though compelled by an unseen force.
It was an unusual pattern, and one far too consistent to ignore. So for the past two days she and Naruto had tracked the creatures' movements whenever they found time between their acts of assistance throughout the city. A misplaced wallet discreetly returned to its owner, a bike chain repaired before its owner even realized what had happened, a frightened child guided back to her worried parents, and more recently, groceries gathered from the street after someone had dropped them in a moment of distraction. These small gestures had also become their way of making the city without drawing unnecessary attention. They acted with care, always mindful of how much to reveal and how much to hold back.
Yet even as they tried to help whom they could, they continued to observe. No matter the day or the hour, the creatures didn't deviate from this new pattern.
Their new life, however, came with its own responsibilities, and balancing them was never simple. Running New Ichiraku Ramen demanded most of their time, and their search for answers about this world could not be abandoned either. They couldn't afford to chase after every odd discovery together.
But there was something about this particular situation that tugged at Hinata's instincts with growing urgency. So while Naruto headed back to the shop, insisting with a grin he could handle the evening crowd on his own, Hinata took a deep breath, tightened her resolve, and set out alone to follow the creatures' trail.
She knew she was capable enough to deal with anything that came her way. And if need be, a large expulsion of her chakra would get Naruto running to her in an instant. Even so, caution remained sensible. She refused to fall into the trap of underestimating new enemies just because older ones had once overshadowed her. She had grown too much, learned too much, and survived too much to allow complacency to take root now.
Hinata activated her Byakugan, and veins bulged at the sides of her head as her vision expanded far beyond its physical limits. The faint spiritual residue the creatures left behind stood out within her sight, guiding her toward their destination. But it led not to a hidden lair or cursed temple, but to a simple, unremarkable house.
The building was plain in every respect. Its beige exterior resembled countless others on the street, its windows were drawn shut, and its small garden was neatly kept but ultimately forgettable. But the moment Hinata focused her vision on it, she saw that something within the house radiated power.
Naruto had always been better at distinguishing chakra signatures from others, especially when negative emotions were involved. She had never possessed his sensitivity in that regard and often assumed she never would be able to feel what he described. Yet here, for the first time, she felt the dark spiritual energy pressure in a way that went beyond sight.
At a distance, it resembled the energy of the creatures themselves. But as she concentrated, she sensed subtle differences in addition to the malevolence saturating the home. The oppressive force spilled from a single point within the building, and she instinctively pushed her vision further.
The source revealed itself almost immediately.
A mummified finger, shriveled and ancient, sat on a low wooden table beside a sleeping woman.
Hinata's breath caught in her chest. That innocuous-looking thing was pouring out a monstrous, suffocating energy that devoured the house from within. It was overwhelming, wrong in every possible way, and so powerful that the creatures had been drawn to it like starving animals.
It could easily have been a trap. Yet the woman beside it appeared neither malicious nor feigning sleep. Her breathing was slow and peaceful, her posture relaxed, and she seemed utterly unaware of the danger only inches away from her. Why she would rest beside something so clearly vile was anyone's guess.
Hinata was still considering this when she saw three creatures phasing through the walls of the house. One walked, another dragged itself forward with grotesquely elongated limbs, and the third slithered like a snake across the floorboards. All of them moved toward the sleeping woman with widening jaws and sharpened claws.
Putting aside the questions, Hinata channeled chakra through her legs and launched herself toward the house. The window shattered around her as she shielded her face with her forearms, rolling across the floor and coming to a crouch beside the woman just as the sound jolted her awake.
Before confusion could turn into panic, Hinata struck the woman's tenketsu, sending her into an immediate unconsciousness. "Forgive me," she murmured softly. The upcoming fight would go a lot smoother if she didn't have to worry about a panicking civilian ruining things.
She pulled the woman from her chair just as the creature with the impossibly wide mouth lunged. Its jagged teeth clamped down on splintering wood instead of flesh.
It turned toward her, but she was already moving. With a single fluid motion she lifted the unconscious woman over her shoulder, swept the cursed finger into her free hand, and drove her heel into the creature's torso. The blow struck with enough force to blast it through the outer wall and into the street, taking the second creature with it as it failed to move aside in time.
Hinata followed immediately, slipping through the hole in the wall before the dust could settle. The third creature, a bloated mass with grotesquely large hands, swiped at her with a force that could have torn a car in half. She bent low, letting the attack pass over her head, and once again gathered chakra in her legs.
One leap carried her to the rooftop. The tiles creaked beneath her sandals, but she barely made any sound as she laid the woman down with care before stepping away to draw the creatures' attention.
She did not need to worry about the woman now. The creatures had no interest in her; their focus was entirely on the cursed finger in Hinata's possession, which was both a relief and an eerie reminder of how dangerous the object truly was.
Once she felt certain she had lured them far enough from any civilians, Hinata slipped the finger into her pocket. She then lifted her arms and settled into the low, characteristic stance of the Gentle Fist.
These creatures were not living beings. They had no organs she could shut down, and no chakra pathway system she could target. Yet she and Naruto had learned through careful experimentation that her chakra could still tear through them. Whatever they were really made of, it was close enough to chakra that her techniques tore through them with ease.
But since they lacked chakra pathways, she no longer needed the Byakugan. The muscles in her face relaxed as the dojutsu faded from her eyes, though her posture remained ready. She inhaled slowly, her face the picture of concentration as the creatures closed in from ervy direction with murderous intent.
And even as she prepared for the fight to begin, even as the rooftop trembled beneath her and the air thickened with their killing intent, Hinata still found her thoughts drifting toward her husband.
She wondered what Naruto was doing right now.
ThisisAbsurd
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What could Naruto possibly know about sealing things away?
sideface
Face The Side
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if naruto knows sealing jutsu then ggs for sukuna lmao