633Preword: Welcome, and thank you so much for checking out this story.
This will be a reimagining where Hinata takes center stage as a powerful protagonist. I've always felt the Byakugan deserved more, so in this story, it receives an upgrade alongside deeper ties to reincarnation lore. You'll see inspiration drawn from Hinduism, Buddhism, Daoism, and Shintoism woven into these upgrades, and I'll explain those influences as they appear throughout the chapters.
Some Canon elements like the origins of the Byakugan, Eight Gates, and Caged Bird Seal have been reinterpreted and some characters' backstories will shift to better fit this version of events. When these changes arise, I'll do my best to make them clear and meaningful within the narrative. Some answers will come slowly, but I promise they're coming.
I'll also occasionally leave Notes at the end of chapters when I introduce original jutsu, concepts, or translations for Japanese technique names.
With all that said, thank you again for giving this story a shot. I hope you enjoy the journey—and if something resonates or you have thoughts to share, I'd love to hear from you!
Hinata of the White Lotus
Awakening
"Hinata! Do your best!" Naruto's voice rang out, clear and defiant.
It wasn't just a cheer; it was a command, a belief, a spark of hope.
Despite everything—despite the near certainty of her defeat against her cousin, Neji; despite the resigned expressions of the proctor, her own sensei, and the crowd, who had already dismissed this fight as over—Naruto believed in her. He stood alone in that conviction.
Hyūga Hinata, whose every movement had been weighed and judged as inferior, felt strength surge in her trembling body. She wasn't imagining it, either. Neji saw it, too. The cold certainty in his eyes flickered as her own gaze steeled with determination. His relaxed stance shifted, his body tensing as he raised his upright palm, ready to meet her.
The fight so far had been one-sided. From the very first exchange, Neji had been merciless, his strikes unrelenting and devastatingly precise. His mastery of the Hyūga clan's Jyūken style was on full display, each blow expertly shutting down the chakra points of his opponent. Hinata had barely been able to defend herself, each failed block or misstep allowing Neji's strikes to land cleanly, robbing her of strength with every passing moment.
Her arms ached, her chest burned, and every breath felt like a laborious task. The earlier strikes to her Tenketsu had left her chakra flow disrupted, and her body screamed at her to stop. But something stronger than her pain, stronger than her fear, pushed her forward.
Naruto was watching.
The person she admired most was looking at her, and her alone. He didn't see a failure. He didn't see a weakling. He saw her, and that was enough.
Hinata charged. Her feet barely found purchase as she hurled herself forward, her empty palms rising with the elegance of Hyūga combat but the rawness of her own desperation. Deep down, she knew this fight was unwinnable. Neji's strikes had all but sealed her chakra flow, leaving her unable to properly use her techniques. Without chakra, her Jyūken was powerless. Her movements were slow and clumsy, her form unrefined.
But this wasn't about Neji anymore.
This was a battle against herself, against the timid, self-doubting girl she had always been. This was her declaration that she could change. Every step forward, every strike, was a refusal to give in.
She swept low, aiming for Neji's shins, and when she stumbled in the attempt, she turned the fall into momentum. Her leg lashed out, a blur of determination. He blocked it effortlessly, his palm meeting her kick with a practiced grace, but the mere act of forcing him to defend gave her the chance to recover. She spun back up, her movements unrefined but relentless, and struck again.
One strike. Another. A rain of blows.
Neji's composure wavered for an instant as he stepped back. For a fleeting moment, Hinata thought she saw something other than disdain in his eyes. Was it surprise? Wariness? No, it was acknowledgment. She pressed harder, her hands slicing through the air in a flurry of strikes. No chakra came with them—her Tenketsu had been sealed—but she fought as though it didn't matter.
"Why do you persist?" Neji's voice cut through the flurry of movement as he parried another strike. "Your attacks are futile. Do you truly believe you can change your destiny?"
Hinata's response wasn't with words, but with action. Her movements became faster, her strikes bolder. Her body screamed at her to stop, but she refused to let it. Her heart burned with Naruto's voice, his belief, his hope.
Neji's own blows increased in pace to match hers, precise as ever, but there was a new edge to his movements. She saw it in the tightening of his jaw, in the way his blows no longer carried the air of effortless superiority.
He was taking her seriously.
That thought was all she needed to keep moving forward. It didn't matter that she was losing; it didn't matter that the fight was over in all but name. Neji had been wrong about her. She wasn't a failure.
She launched herself at Neji, a reckless flurry of strikes and counterstrikes that pushed her battered body far beyond its limits. Her final attack—a desperate, straight-line charge—passed Neji's outstretched palm in a devastating clash. His Jyūken slammed into her chest, his chakra searing through her body like lightning.
For an instant, the world stopped.
Hinata's breath caught, blood rising in her throat as her vision darkened. Her legs gave out, and she fell, her body hitting the ground with a sickening finality. One arm remained outstretched, frozen mid-attack.
"You truly don't understand," Neji's voice broke through the haze, distant and hollow. "From the very beginning, your attacks were meaningless."
His words were bitter, spiteful—but beneath them was something else. Why did he sound so… defeated?
The darkness rushed in, cold and unrelenting. As her consciousness faded, Hinata wondered if it had all been for nothing. Had she truly been unable to change?
The sensation of pain ebbed, dissolving into nothingness. Hinata knew she had blacked out—or at least she thought she had. Yet this didn't feel like unconsciousness. It wasn't the comforting, numbing embrace of darkness. Instead, awareness lingered, sharp and undeniable. Slowly, cautiously, she moved her fingers, then her arms. She found herself able to sit up, the heaviness and pain from before completely gone.
"…What?" Her voice emerged unstrained, unbroken, free of the rasping coughs that had wracked her earlier. Her hand instinctively touched her chest, expecting the sharp ache of Neji's final strike, but there was nothing. It was almost as though her body had been healed.
But where was she?
Darkness stretched infinitely in every direction, an oppressive void that seemed to press against her senses. She wasn't standing on solid ground—she wasn't even sure she was standing on anything at all. And yet, she wasn't falling. Then her eyes caught a flickering light beneath her feet, steady and mesmerizing. Looking down, she realized the glow came from a massive eight-trigrams diagram, its intricate lines etched in a vibrant green luminescence.
The yin-yang symbol at its center pulsed faintly, like the rhythm of a heartbeat. Recognition stirred in her, faint but familiar. She had heard of this phenomenon before, whispered in half-forgotten Hyūga legends. It was said that those who had unlocked the true potential of their eyes might glimpse this place—a space between consciousness and reality, tied to their very essence. But it was just a story… wasn't it?
"This can't be… Am I still… able to fight?" she whispered, her words shaky in the vast emptiness.
Her voice barely seemed to disturb the stillness, but another voice answered her, soft yet startling in the silence.
"Well, that depends entirely on you, doesn't it?"
Hinata gasped, spinning around, her heart hammering. There, floating just above the glowing yin-yang center of the diagram, was a figure. At first glance, Hinata thought she was staring at a reflection of herself, but a closer look revealed differences that made her heart skip.
"W-Who are you?" Hinata stammered, taking an involuntary step back. Her voice trembled with confusion and apprehension, each word catching in her throat. The woman floating before her was an enigma, a contradiction that sent shivers coursing down her spine. She looked like Hinata might if she were older—stronger, unshakably composed, her presence almost regal. Yet something about her felt wrong, impossible.
The woman's pale lavender eyes gleamed with a light that seemed to pierce through Hinata, sharp and unrelenting, their intensity far surpassing even the most skilled Byakugan users she had known. She bore the unmistakable traits of a Hyūga: the same porcelain-like skin, the same delicate features, the same commanding gaze that could silence a room. But Hinata knew every Hyūga, and this woman was no one she had ever met. Most strikingly, her forehead was pristine, untouched by the Caged Bird Seal that marked the fate of every branch family member. It was as if she stood outside the clan's ironclad rules—untethered, unshackled, and untouchable.
The air around her was oppressive, heavy with an unearthly presence that made Hinata's heart pound erratically. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her back in inky waves, shimmering faintly as if catching light from an unseen source. Draped over her shoulders was a shrine maiden's outfit—its stark white and violet hues unblemished, yet it felt ancient, as though it had seen countless lifetimes. Her sleeves billowed gently despite the still air, and her every movement was imbued with an almost otherworldly grace.
There was something in the way she sat—effortlessly poised yet suffused with an aura of quiet authority. It wasn't comforting; it was chilling, like standing in the shadow of something that existed beyond human comprehension. Her presence was both celestial and ominous, evoking the serene majesty of an angel and the merciless inevitability of a grim reaper. She was otherworldly, her very existence blurring the line between divinity and death.
When she smiled, it wasn't warm—it was knowing. It was the smile of someone who had seen the end of all things and returned to tell the tale. Her gaze pinned Hinata in place, her lavender eyes narrowing ever so slightly, as if she were measuring Hinata's worth, her courage, her very soul.
"Hmm… let's save that conversation for later, shall we? For now, just think of me as… an extension of your chakra." Her tone was kind, but there was an undercurrent of urgency that made Hinata's stomach twist. "I'm sorry I can't explain more, but you don't really have time for long explanations if you want to keep fighting."
"F-Fighting?" Hinata's breath hitched. "You mean… I haven't lost yet?" She turned, hoping to see the arena, the crowd, Naruto—but there was only the void stretching endlessly around her. Her shoulders sagged, doubt gnawing at her. How was she supposed to fight like this? Was she even alive?
"That's what I'm saying," the woman's voice cut through her thoughts. "You're at the edge of consciousness right now. See all this blackness?" She gestured to the surrounding void. "If you step into it, that's it. Your fight's over, and you won't wake up again. But…" Her hand extended outward, open and waiting. "If you come this way and take my hand, you'll wake up. Simple as that."
Hinata hesitated, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.
"That's it? Just like that? I can go back?"
The woman's smile softened, her glowing eyes steady.
"The action is simple, yes. But the choice itself isn't. Your body is on the brink of collapse, Hinata. Your heart is barely hanging on, and the fight you've endured has pushed you to your limit. But that's exactly why you're here, with me." Her voice dropped slightly, taking on a more serious tone. "What comes after won't be easy. You'll be waking up to a body that's barely functional, and the pain will be very real. But it's your decision."
Hinata's hands curled into fists as her thoughts churned. This entire situation felt impossible, yet the woman's presence, her words, carried a strange sense of truth. A flicker of hope ignited in her chest.
"Are you saying…" Her voice wavered. "Are you saying I've changed? That I've become stronger? Like Naruto-kun?"
The woman's expression shifted, a glimmer of pride in her faint smile.
"Take my hand and find out for yourself."
The words struck something deep within Hinata. Her old self—the one who doubted, hesitated, and faltered—might have questioned further, might have let fear dictate her next move. But the Hinata standing here, within the luminous eight-trigrams, was different. She had faced Neji. She had endured his scorn and his strikes. And she had refused to fall.
Hinata took a step forward, her movements steady and deliberate. She reached out her hand, ignoring the tremble in her fingers, and clasped the woman's outstretched hand firmly.
A low, resonant hum reverberated through the void, like the toll of a distant bell. The eight-trigrams beneath her feet flared with brilliant light, the green glow intensifying until it consumed everything.
Warmth surged through Hinata's body, a power unlike anything she had ever felt before. It wasn't just chakra—it was something deeper, something that resonated with her very soul. The woman's voice echoed faintly in her ears as the light enveloped her completely.
"Go. Show them what you're capable of."
When the light faded, Hinata's eyes fluttered open, the world around her a haze of distorted shapes and muffled noise. The blinding glare of the ceiling lights above pierced her vision, making her squint as sharp pain lanced through her skull. She was on her back, every inch of her body screaming in agony. Her limbs felt like lead, trembling under the strain of simply existing. Her lungs dragged in ragged breaths, shallow and uneven, as though the act of breathing itself was a battle.
The coppery taste of blood lingered on her tongue, its metallic tang sharp and unrelenting. Her chest throbbed erratically, her heart struggling to find a steady rhythm as it slammed against her ribcage in painful, disjointed bursts. Her fingers twitched weakly against the dirt floor of the arena, her nails scraping against the rough surface. Even that slight motion sent tremors of pain up her arms, her muscles burning as though they were tearing apart with every attempt to move.
Above her, Neji stood like an immovable pillar, his face an unreadable mask. She could feel his gaze, heavy and judgmental, as the crowd murmured and gasped around them. Their voices were distant, like echoes trapped in water, blending together into an incomprehensible cacophony. She was aware of it all—too aware—but it only fueled the ache pounding through her skull.
Hinata's body rebelled against her, begging her to stay down, but her will refused to break. Slowly, with a shuddering breath, she turned her head to the side, strands of her dark hair sticking to her bloodied face. Her arms, trembling violently, shifted against the ground. With an agonizing slowness, she pressed her palms flat against the hard rock, her fingers spreading wide to find any stability they could.
Her first attempt to push herself up failed. Her arms buckled, and her chest slammed back into the ground, sending a fresh wave of pain ripping through her torso. She gasped sharply, blood bubbling at the corner of her lips. Tears blurred her vision, but she gritted her teeth, her jaw locking as she forced herself to try again.
Her arms shook, every fiber of her being crying out as she clawed her way up to her knees. Her torso swayed unsteadily, her shoulders slumped forward as though the weight of gravity itself was trying to pull her back down. Her breath came in wheezing, broken gasps, but her head lifted. The faintest flicker of determination burned in her lavender eyes, even as her body threatened to collapse beneath her.
She could feel the sharp edges of her pain—the broken rhythm of her heart, the bruises that seemed to swell with every heartbeat. And yet, she knelt there, trembling and battered, refusing to surrender. Her hands clenched into fists against the ground, her nails biting into her palms as her gaze locked on Neji's. Her lips parted, bloodstained but unyielding, as though daring him to strike her down again.
The arena fell silent. Every movement, every breath, was a defiance of her limits. A miracle that she still knelt upright, that she had not succumbed to the overwhelming pain. Yet there she was, broken but unbroken, her spirit refusing to yield even as her body betrayed her.
The fight wasn't over. Not yet.
"Why do you keep standing?" Neji asked, his voice laced with disbelief. "You're really going to die…"
It wasn't a threat, but more a grim statement of fact.
Hinata lifted her head, meeting his gaze. She was trembling, but her determination burned brighter than ever. Slowly, painfully, she rose to her feet.
"Because…" Her voice was weak, but it carried. "I never go back on my word. That's my Nindo- My Ninja Way."
For the briefest moment, something flickered across Neji's face—surprise? Annoyance? He clenched his teeth, his Byakugan flaring, but before he could respond, Hinata's vision began to shift. The shimmering air around her seemed alive, pulsing with an unseen energy. It wasn't chakra—not her own, at least. It was something far deeper, something intertwined with the world itself.
Hinata's gaze flicked to the stands, to Naruto. Her heart clenched when she saw the faint shimmer of energy around him too, like a protective aura coiling in unseen spirals. He didn't seem to notice it, but he caught her eye and gave her an encouraging nod. That single gesture steadied her.
"It's called natural energy," came a voice, soft but certain.
Hinata's vision darted to the source, and there she saw her. The mysterious girl—the same figure she had seen in the void—floated off her back, almost draped over her like a protective mother, her essence ethereal and glowing. Her presence was subtle, unnoticed by anyone else, but to Hinata, she was vivid, undeniable.
"The true power of your Byakugan has awakened," the girl explained, her voice calm but urgent. "That's why you can see me now, and you're also beginning to see the world as it truly is."
Hinata wanted to respond, to say she understood, but the influx of sensations and new knowledge was overwhelming. For a fleeting moment, she had convinced herself that the earlier vision—the mysterious woman and her cryptic words—had been a dream, a figment of her fading consciousness. But now, with every fiber of her being alive with unfamiliar energy, she knew it had been real.
There was no time to process any of it, as she was still in the middle of a life-or-death fight. Her gaze shifted back to Neji, who was studying her intently.
"Quit bluffing!" he snapped, his voice sharp with derision.
Hinata's eyes widened slightly. He couldn't see the girl on her back. The realization struck her like a jolt—his Byakugan scanned the area, but it passed right through the girl, as if she weren't there.
"You're barely able to stand," Neji continued, his frustration mounting, oblivious to the impossibility standing behind her.
But then his words faltered. He stiffened, his gaze locking on hers, and his Byakugan's veins pulsed faintly. For a moment, his composure broke, his eyes widening ever so slightly.
"Your eyes…" he murmured, the words barely audible.
Hinata blinked, momentarily confused, before realization dawned. Her Byakugan felt different, sharper, more attuned. She remembered the fleeting glimpse she'd caught earlier—the blooming lotus pattern within that woman's irises. Did this mean she had it now too?
"Is this some kind of Main Branch trick?!" Neji snarled, his voice seething with frustration. His Byakugan flared with renewed intensity, veins bulging at his temples as his anger boiled over. The bitterness in his tone was palpable, each word dripping with the weight of years of resentment and perceived injustice. To him, this moment was yet another manifestation of the cruelty of the Main Branch—a mockery of his struggles, his pain, and the shackles of the Caged Bird Seal that bound his very existence.
He had spent his life fighting against an unyielding fate, only to see the supposed power of the Main Branch flaunted before him in this inexplicable display. He refused to accept it. He couldn't accept it. His fists clenched tightly, knuckles whitening as he took a step forward, his anger pushing him past hesitation. Without warning, he charged, his movements sharp and precise, the product of years of relentless training and discipline.
Hinata staggered backward, her body still trembling from the strain of her newfound power. But her senses, heightened and raw, caught something else—a ripple in the air, a shift in the flow of chakra around her. Her Byakugan, newly attuned, saw not just Neji but the Jōnin above them. Their chakra flared subtly but unmistakably, each presence distinct, a storm of conflicting emotions.
Gekko Hayate's energy was sharp yet restrained, poised like a blade ready to strike. Kurenai's chakra swirled with protective intent, her motherly instincts igniting in response to Hinata's visible pain. Might Gai's was a fiery beacon of righteous indignation, his passion threatening to spill over at any moment. Hatake Kakashi, ever calm, was like a dormant volcano, his presence commanding yet calculating, as though assessing how best to act.
Hinata could feel the weight of their intentions pressing against her like a gathering storm. The natural chakra in the arena seemed to bend and react to their will, the very air thickening with the unspoken promise of intervention. They were on the verge of stepping in, their collective resolve nearly tipping the scales of the match.
Her heart raced, panic rising in her chest. She couldn't let this happen—not like this. Not with the weight of her clan's legacy hanging over her and the bitter hatred in Neji's eyes. If they intervened now, it would only deepen his resentment, solidifying his belief in the inherent unfairness of their shared bloodline. But what could she do to stop it?
"Tenketsu," the girl's voice resonated in Hinata's mind, steady and commanding, like a bell tolling in a quiet cathedral. It wasn't a suggestion; it was an instruction, absolute and unyielding.
Hinata's breath hitched, and her focus sharpened. She could see it—not just Neji's chakra points, but the tenketsu of the natural energy itself. The world around her pulsed and shimmered as if an unseen lattice of power had been revealed. Invisible fractures and flows crisscrossed the space, each node a point of unimaginable potential. The nearest one lay just at her feet, rippling outward like a heartbeat, its rhythm calling to her.
There was no hesitation, but it wasn't elegance that propelled her—it was desperation. Hinata's body, battered and trembling, faltered mid-step, her knees threatening to buckle beneath her. She nearly fell, the weight of exhaustion dragging her down, but then she saw it—a faint guiding line etched in the natural energy around her, pulsing with purpose.
Summoning every ounce of strength she had left, she reached out, her movements unsteady yet deliberate. Her body swayed, barely catching itself at the last moment, and her hand, trembling but resolute, traced the glowing line. It guided her forward, aligning her with destiny itself. With a final surge of will, she struck the fracture point with a single, precise finger.
In that instant, her chakra surged, roaring through her body as if a dam had been obliterated. Her tenketsu burst open in unison, flooding her with power so raw and unfiltered it was nearly overwhelming. The ground beneath her shuddered violently, and the energy she had unleashed tore through the arena floor like a living force.
A wave of destruction erupted between her and Neji, the tiled floor splintering and cracking in a jagged chain reaction. The air was filled with the deafening sound of stone fracturing and dust exploding upward in great clouds. Neji's eyes widened in shock, his Byakugan unable to fully grasp what he was seeing. The blast hit him mid-step, and he was thrown backward like a leaf caught in a gale. He tumbled across the arena, his body skidding to a stop just inches from the smashing into the wall behind him.
The room fell into stunned silence.
The Jōnin above, who had moments ago been ready to intervene, froze mid-motion. Hayate, already halfway to them, lingered just nearby the destruction Hinata unleashed. Kurenai, who had been on the verge of leaping forward, stood rooted in place, her eyes wide with astonishment. Gai's fiery determination had been replaced with slack-jawed disbelief, and even Kakashi's ever-composed demeanor cracked as his single visible eye narrowed with curiosity.
The destruction was mesmerizing in its ferocity and precision. The chain reaction had stopped just short of swallowing Neji entirely, the fractured floor forming a jagged divide between the two Hyūga. It wasn't reckless—it was controlled chaos, as though the natural energy itself had answered Hinata's will.
Neji, gasping for air, staggered to his feet. His composure was shattered, his gaze flicking from the destruction to Hinata. For the first time, his disbelief outweighed his anger.
Hinata stood at the edge of the rupture, her chest heaving, her body trembling from the strain of what she had just unleashed. The dust swirled around her, framing her like an ethereal force of nature.
For a moment, no one moved. The onlookers, the Jōnin, even Neji—all were captivated by the sight before them, curiosity and awe overriding their earlier intent to intervene. This was no longer the match they had expected to witness. It was something far beyond that, something no one could ignore.
Naruto's voice broke through, clear and unwavering.
"Yeah, you get 'em, Hinata!"
That made her smile. A small, shy smile, but one filled with determination.
"I told you," she said, her voice soft but steady as she turned toward Neji, the blooming white lotus in her eyes shimmering with an otherworldly light. "I've changed, Neji-nii-san."
Neji trembled from the shock of what he had just witnessed. For a moment, he hesitated, his mind reeling at the impossible display of power she had unleashed. But then the rage returned—hot, blinding, and all-consuming. The unfairness of everything she represented ignited within him like a firestorm.
The energy within his own body surged, fueled by his fury. His Byakugan flared brighter, veins pulsing with raw chakra as he forced his body to move, the ache of his injuries drowned beneath his manic determination.
"You don't deserve this!" he snarled, his voice cracking under the weight of his anger. "You don't deserve to stand above me!"
With a roar that echoed across the shattered arena, he charged. His form blurred with speed, every muscle in his body straining as he hurled himself forward. The ground cracked beneath his feet with the force of his movements, his chakra radiating outward like a whirlwind of raw intent.
It wasn't just an attack—it was an explosion of everything he had bottled up inside: his resentment, his pain, his helplessness. And it was all aimed at Hinata, the living embodiment of the injustice he could no longer bear.
Hinata's heart clenched. This wasn't who he truly was. His hatred, his anguish—it wasn't aimed at her. It was aimed at his powerlessness, at the cruelty of their family's traditions. She wanted to help him, but she couldn't—not yet. First, she had to stop him.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, bracing herself.
Hinata's breaths came shallow and strained, each one rattling through her chest like the creak of a fraying rope. Her heart hammered erratically, the rhythm unstable and painful, yet she forced herself to remain upright. Every muscle in her body trembled, every nerve cried out for rest, but she pushed the agony aside. She could feel her now—the ghastly girl—clinging to her back, not with weight but with an almost suffocating presence.
It wasn't like before, when the girl's voice had been clear and commanding. Now there were no words. They didn't need them. Hinata knew what the girl wanted, their thoughts perfectly synchronized, their minds bound by the steady pulse of natural energy that coursed through them both. The connection was as intimate as it was alien, and Hinata couldn't tell where her thoughts ended and the girl's began.
She saw it—the tenketsu the girl intended for her to strike. It wasn't on Neji's body but suspended in the air between them, invisible to anyone else. It pulsed faintly, like a star on the verge of collapse, radiating both power and fragility. She felt a pang of sadness—a deep, aching sorrow that this battle had come to this moment. She didn't want to hurt Neji, not truly. But she couldn't back down. She couldn't let his hatred destroy them both.
Her body screamed in protest as she moved, the pain sharp and biting, but her resolve carried her forward. Her finger lashed out, precise and unwavering, striking the unseen point with all the strength she could muster.
The effect was immediate and devastating. The air itself seemed to shatter under her strike, rippling outward in a violent cascade that tore through the space between them. The shockwave collapsed inward, creating a sudden vacuum that dragged the breath from Neji's lungs. The force hit him like a thunderclap, his body locking up as his Byakugan eyes widened in shock. For the briefest moment, his gaze unfocused, his consciousness flickering as if the world were slipping from his grasp.
But it wasn't enough.
Hinata's sadness deepened as she saw him fight through it. Of course, it wouldn't be enough. Neji was the genius of the Hyūga clan, his talents unmatched in a generation. For him to fall so easily would mean the strength of their clan, of everything he had dedicated himself to, was no more than a fragile illusion. And Neji… Neji would never allow that.
Through sheer will and unrelenting rage, he broke through the suffocating force. His chest heaved as he dragged in shallow, desperate breaths, his body quivering with exertion. But his eyes—his burning, hateful eyes—locked onto her again, blazing with fury so intense it seemed to ignite the very air around him.
In an instant, he closed the distance between them. His speed was breathtaking, fueled by anger that transcended the limits of his injured body. One moment, he was staggering; the next, he was upon her, his movements too fast for her to fully process.
His palm surged forward, aimed directly at her heart in a desperate counterattack. The force of his strike carried not just his chakra but the raw weight of everything he felt—his bitterness, his resentment, his belief in the inescapable cruelty of fate.
Hinata barely had time to react, her body instinctively bracing for the impact. The distance between them vanished in the blink of an eye, and she felt the sheer intensity of his presence crashing down on her like a tidal wave. This wasn't just a fight anymore—it was the culmination of years of pain, anger, and unspoken words that had finally erupted between them.
As Neji's strike shot toward her, she caught a glimpse of it—a faint, glowing line of natural energy, branching out like a thread in the air. It guided her body, telling her how to move. She deflected his strike with a sharp elbow, spinning gracefully around him.
Her hand shot toward the back of his head, but the Byakugan granted Neji near-omniscient vision. He bent low, dodging her palm, and transitioned seamlessly into a scorpion kick, his heel arcing upward toward her chin.
Again, the natural energy lines flared before her eyes, a split second before the attack reached her. She twisted mid-air, following their path, narrowly dodging the strike. Her movements were sharp and precise, like a leaf caught in an intricate wind. She flipped backward, landing several paces away in a crouch, her body trembling from the effort.
Her chest heaved, her heart pounding erratically as she fought to stay composed. The natural energy coursing through her had momentarily repaired some of the worst of her injuries, knitting torn muscle and easing broken tissue just enough to move like this. But it wasn't enough. The healing was slow, like a stream trying to fill a shattered dam, and her earlier wounds still throbbed beneath the surface, threatening to undo her entirely.
Hinata's lips twitched, the taste of iron sharp on her tongue. Spitting the blood out might relieve the pressure in her chest, but she knew it would also give the observing Jōnin reason to stop the match. She clenched her jaw, swallowing the impulse along with the blood, and refused to let them end it on her behalf.
She couldn't hide her labored breathing, though. Each inhale rattled in her chest, her reserves dwindling with every second. Despite the natural energy sustaining her, she was running out of time. She needed even a moment to recover, to let the energy stabilize her. But Neji wasn't going to give her that.
"You're in range of my vision," Neji said coldly, his tone laced with finality. His voice alone made Hinata's blood run cold, her breath catching in her throat.
Hinata froze, her worst fears realized. She had seen this technique before—studied its precision and power from a distance. The Eight Trigrams: Sixty-Four Palms.
How did he know it? The technique was supposed to be reserved for the Main Branch. Even Hinata, the denounced rightful heir, hadn't yet mastered it. But this was Neji. Of course, he had figured it out on his own, transcending the limitations placed upon him by sheer will and genius.
Neji spun on his heels, closing the gap between them with a ferocity that defied reason. His fingers extended, his movements precise and deadly, each step guided by the invisible lines of the Eight Trigrams.
"Two palms!"
Neji lunged, his strikes aimed directly at her tenketsu—but his fingers found only empty air.
Hinata's tenketsu should have been exactly where his fingers stabbed. This was an immutable truth. The Eight Trigrams technique was designed to be absolute. Even if she moved, even if she dodged, the lines guiding Neji's movements should have led his strikes to land. Yet, at the end of every line, she wasn't there. It was as if she were altering fate in real time, shifting the inevitable into the impossible before his very eyes.
Neji grit his teeth, suppressing the flicker of disbelief rising within him. This didn't make sense. It couldn't make sense. But he didn't allow his surprise to disrupt the technique. This was only the beginning. Hinata may have dodged the first two strikes, but the speed of the Eight Trigrams increased exponentially with each subsequent attack. And in her current condition—her battered, trembling body—dodging all sixty-four was impossible.
"Four palms!"
His strikes came faster now, the air hissing with the speed of his fingers as they cut through the space between them. Each blow carried with it the precision of a Hyūga genius, a honed instinct that had never failed him before. Yet, Hinata was still moving.
Her body twisted sharply, ducking low at the last possible moment, following the glowing threads of natural energy that only she could see. Her limbs trembled violently, her muscles screaming with every step, every dodge, every motion. Her battered frame felt like it might collapse at any moment, but she forced herself to keep going. Each evasion was an act of pure willpower, her mind and body aligned by the invisible lines that guided her through the storm.
"Eight palms!"
Neji's frustration began to seep through his composure. His movements became sharper, more forceful, each strike crackling with chakra as he pushed himself to overwhelm her with sheer speed. His Byakugan burned as it tracked her every motion, but it wasn't enough. She wasn't just evading him—she was matching him.
Hinata's movements, though visibly strained, were fluid and deliberate. She wasn't merely dodging anymore; she was fighting back. Her elbows intercepted his strikes, her palms deflected his blows, her every motion guided not just by instinct but by an unshakable strategy.
She could see it now—his rhythm. Neji wasn't just following the Eight Trigrams; he was bound by it, relying on the lines that guided his strikes. But Hinata was no longer tethered to those same rules. The ghastly girl had shown her the invisible threads of destiny itself, and she had chosen to step beyond them. Each time Neji's strikes came within a hair's breadth of landing, Hinata shifted, altering the flow of the Eight Trigrams just enough to escape its grasp.
"Sixteen palms!"
The strikes became a blur, their speed and precision threatening to overwhelm her completely. The air between them crackled with the sheer force of their clash, the arena trembling under the intensity of their movements.
Neji's anger burned brighter with each missed attack, his strikes growing fiercer as his desperation mounted. His sweat dripped onto the cracked tiles beneath their feet, his confidence faltering with every blow that failed to connect. How? How was she doing this? How was someone like Hinata—a girl he had always thought weak, unworthy—able to stand against him, defy him?
"Thirty-two palms!"
Hinata's body was failing her. Every dodge, every block pushed her closer to collapse. Her breaths were ragged and shallow, her heart pounding erratically as if it might give out at any moment. Her legs felt like lead, threatening to buckle with every step, and her vision blurred dangerously at the edges.
Even the natural energy flowing through her couldn't keep up, the lines flickering faintly as if straining under the weight of her will. Her battered body screamed for rest, but she couldn't afford to stop. She gritted her teeth, swallowing the blood pooling in her mouth, and forced herself to move.
This wasn't just a battle of skill anymore. It was a battle of wills—a clash between Neji's unrelenting genius and Hinata's unyielding determination. They weren't simply following the Eight Trigrams; they were warring over its flow. Neji pushed forward, creating new lines with each strike, his Byakugan guiding him like an artist painting a masterpiece. But Hinata disrupted them, altering their trajectories, bending them to her will.
Neji roared, his voice filled with desperation and fury as it echoed through the arena.
"Sixty-four palms!"
The final blow came, faster and harder than any before. Neji's strikes blurred into a single stream of motion, their speed impossible for anyone to follow. Hinata twisted, her body moving in perfect sync with the flickering lines of natural energy, but she wasn't fast enough. His final strike grazed her left shoulder, jarring her with enough force to almost send her sprawling.
Neji froze, his chest heaving, his Byakugan flaring. Only one strike had landed. One. It wasn't enough—not nearly enough to disrupt her chakra flow. And in that moment, he knew it.
Hinata's breaths rattled in her chest, her entire body trembling. Every nerve was alight with pain, her limbs heavy and sluggish. But she saw the opening. The line appeared before her, glowing brightly, showing her the path to victory.
She didn't hesitate. Bending low, she gathered the last reserves of her strength, her hands surging with concentrated chakra. With a shout that tore from the depths of her soul, she thrust forward, her palms slamming into Neji's solar plexus.
The force of the blow sent him flying across the arena, his body twisting through the air before crashing into the far wall with a deafening impact. The ground beneath them quaked as dust and debris rained down, the echo of the clash reverberating through the silent room.
Neji slumped to the ground in a motionless heap, his Byakugan fading as his body gave out. And for a moment, all Hinata could hear was the sound of her own ragged breathing, the weight of the impossible victory settling heavily on her shoulders.
Hinata staggered, barely able to keep herself upright. Her body felt like it might collapse at any moment, but she stood firm, her breathing labored but steady. She had endured, outlasted, and overcome. She had chosen to rewrite the lines of destiny—and she had succeeded.
Finally, Hayate's voice broke through, hoarse but clear.
"Winner… Hyūga Hinata."
Hinata straightened, trembling but still standing. She glanced at her hands, marveling at what she had accomplished. Against all odds, she had done it.
She had won. Not just against Neji, but against the shadow of doubt that had loomed over her for so long.
And for the first time, she felt like she could stand tall in her own name.
Even with her newfound power, the fight had been a razor-thin battle between survival and collapse. Her heart thundered in her chest, each beat a painful reminder of how fragile her body was becoming. Every breath was a battle of its own, sharp and ragged, threatening to betray her at any moment.
Still, something deep within her refused to give in.
The crowd was silent, an oppressive void of sound. Even her teacher, Kurenai, looked on with a mix of shock and concern. Hinata could feel the weight of that collective doubt pressing against her like a suffocating fog.
But then, through that silence, a single voice broke through.
"Whooo! Way to go, Hinata! Alright!"
Naruto's voice rang out, bold and unshakable, cutting through the uncertainty like a crystal bell. He cheered for her, his enthusiasm raw and unfiltered. No one else joined him—no murmurs of encouragement from the spectators, no reassurances from her team.
But none of that mattered.
That one voice was enough.
If Naruto was the only person in the entire world who believed in her, it was still more than she had ever dared to ask for. Her chest swelled with emotion, and a shy, heartfelt smile crossed her face. Not a grand grin, but a small and genuine one, a smile full of unspoken gratitude.
She looked up at him, letting his unwavering spirit steady her frayed nerves.
But then her eyes shifted, drawn not to Naruto himself but to something else. There, faintly visible to her heightened sight, was a ghostly figure looming behind him. It was the first time she could truly focus on it—the outline of an ethereal presence clinging to him.
What is that? she thought, her curiosity growing. Why did he have something too?
"You've got questions, huh?" a voice responded softly, the words reaching her mind as though carried on the wind. It was her, the ghastly girl who had clung to Hinata throughout the battle. "That… is probably Asura."
The name landed like a dropped stone in Hinata's mind.
"Asura?" she whispered, glancing between Naruto and the apparition.
The girl smiled faintly.
"I guess you'd call him my cousin. That loudmouth you have a crush on happens to be his latest reincarnation."
Hinata's cheeks burned crimson, the girl's blunt statement striking with the force of one of Neji's palm strikes. Her embarrassment, however, quickly gave way to realization as the girl's words sank in.
Reincarnation?
If Naruto was a reincarnation of this Asura, and the figure behind him had taken that form… then this girl—
"You're starting to put it together," the ghostly girl interrupted, her tone amused. "My name is Ōtsutsuki Kali… and you, Hyūga Hinata, are my latest reincarnation."
Hinata's breath caught in her throat, her enhanced vision flicking toward the phantom. The weight of Kali's words hung heavily in the air, the implications staggering.
"The reason you're able to see me—and Asura—is the true power of your eyes," Kali continued. "It's not just any Byakugan. This is something unique to me and my reincarnations. Your clan has a name for it, though most of them have no idea what it truly means: The Nichiren Byakugan."
"The… Nichiren Byakugan," Hinata whispered, the name stirring something ancient within her.
Kali nodded, her expression softening. "That's right. Your Byakugan has awakened to its true form. And because of it, you're going to carry a legacy far greater than you can imagine."
For a moment, Hinata felt her knees weaken, the enormity of Kali's revelation threatening to overwhelm her. But then she glanced up at Naruto again. His cheers still echoed in her ears, his belief in her unwavering.
A quiet determination bloomed within her. Whatever this power was, whatever destiny Kali claimed awaited her… she would face it.
For herself.
And for the one voice that believed in her.
Chapter End
Notes: The new dōjutsu introduced here is the 日蓮白眼 (Nichiren Byakugan – "Sun Lotus White Eye"). The name is inspired by the Nichiren sect of Japanese Buddhism, which felt fitting given the Hyūga clan's aesthetic and cultural influences.
The core idea of expanding the Byakugan's sight to include Natural Energy and new chakra pathways was inspired in part by the concept of Death Points from Kara no Kyōkai and Tsukihime.
You also met Kali, an original character for this story. She's a cousin of Indra and Asura and, like them, a transmigrant. Her name follows the naming conventions of Hindu myth to match her lineage and maintain consistency in the world's spiritual framework.
Thanks for reading!