The ache of hunger was a deep, thrumming bass note beneath the symphony of Konoha's reconstruction. It had been several days since the invasion, and the gnawing void in Hinata's stomach had become a constant, demanding companion. The immense expenditure of chakra, the raw physical and biological toll of unleashing the symbiote's full power, had left her with an energy debt of staggering proportions. The ceremonial meals and shared provisions of the past few days had been mere appetizers, a handful of kindling tossed into a raging furnace that demanded a forest. Her body, now a finely tuned engine of war, was screaming for fuel.
Around her, the village echoed cacophony of rebirth. The mournful rain had given way to a bright, determined sun that glinted off the sweat on the brows of shinobi and civilians alike. The sound of hammers striking nails was a steady, rhythmic heartbeat. Earth Style users, their hands pressed to the ground, raised new walls from the rubble with a quiet, focused grace. The will of fire, she had realized, was the sound of a thousand people refusing to remain broken. The initial shock had passed, and in its place, a fierce, communal optimism had taken root. News had trickled in from the diplomatic channels, a quiet balm on the village's fresh wounds. The Sand Village, having discovered the putrefied corpse of their own Kazekage, had realized the depth of Orochimaru's betrayal. Hostilities had ceased, replaced by the cautious, formal language of reparations and prisoner exchange. The war had ended before it truly began, leaving only the scars to be mended.
While the Hyuuga elders debated politics and the branch house members assisted in securing the rebuilt perimeter, a different kind of duty had fallen to Hinata. Her teammates had been absorbed by their own clans' efforts. Kiba and the Inuzuka pack patrolled the outer forests, their keen senses a living early warning system, while Shino and the Aburame were methodically assessing the structural integrity of rebuilt foundations, their kikaichu a network of microscopic sensors. Hinata, however, had received a formal request from the village's reconstruction council. They didn't need a sensor or a tracker. They needed strength. Raw, tireless, physical power to clear the heavy debris in the western district, a task too delicate for wide-scale jutsu but too demanding for civilian crews. It was a tacit acknowledgment of her new reality, a formal recognition that she was no longer just the Hyuuga heiress, but a powerhouse in her own right.
So she ate. In the privacy of her clan's kitchen, she consumed an entire pot of rice, a side of grilled fish, and a platter of vegetables with a speed and efficiency that would have been unseemly had anyone been there to witness it. It barely touched the sides. The hunger remained, a cold, predatory coil in her gut. With a quiet sigh, she pulled on a simple black mission shirt and gray pants, the fabric stretching taut across her now-broader shoulders and the curve of her hips, and made her way into the bustling streets. Her walk through the village was a new experience. Heads turned as she passed, but the whispers that followed were no longer laced with pity. They were a mixture of awe, respect, and a nervous, intense curiosity. The men, both shinobi and civilian, would stop their work, their gazes drawn to the tall, powerfully built girl who moved with the serene, dangerous grace of a stalking panther. The women would watch with wide eyes, their conversations pausing as they took in the impossible, hourglass figure that seemed more fitting for a goddess of victory than a teenage girl. She was a living legend forged in the arena, a beautiful, terrifying, and altogether new landmark in the landscape of their village. She paid them no mind, her focus singular. She had a job to do.
She arrived at the designated district, a wide, flattened square where a grand market had once stood. The area was a chaotic jumble of splintered beams, shattered stone, and twisted metal. It was a testament to the destructive power of a colossal serpent's death throes. But it was the sight at the edge of the devastation that made her stop. An army stood there, a silent, disciplined legion of orange and blonde. A hundred, perhaps two hundred, perfect copies of Naruto Uzumaki stood in neat, organized rows, their arms crossed, their expressions identically serious and ready. They were a workforce, awaiting their orders. Standing just in front of the formation, talking animatedly with the one, true Naruto, was Karin. The red of her hair was a vibrant slash of color against the drab grays and browns of the rubble, and even from this distance, Hinata could see the way the girl stood beside him, her presence a clear and confident statement.
The low murmur of their conversation, a quiet island in the sea of reconstruction, ceased as Hinata drew closer. The change was subtle at first, a ripple starting from the edge of the formation. A single clone, its eyes idly scanning the perimeter, froze. Its head snapped towards her, its jaw slackening for a fraction of a second before a wide, brilliant grin spread across its face. It nudged the clone next to it.
"Hey! Look!" the whisper was a spark in a field of dry grass.
A second head turned, then a third, and then, in a cascade of silent communication that was both eerie and comical, the entire army turned as one. The rigid, disciplined posture of the hundred-strong force dissolved in an instant, replaced by a wave of unfiltered, boyish enthusiasm. A low buzz of excitement swept through the ranks, growing into a cheerful, chaotic roar.
"It's Hinata-chan!"
"Whoa, she's really here!"
The sound finally broke through Naruto and Karin's focused conversation. They turned, their expressions mirroring the surprise of the clones, if not the sheer volume. Naruto's face lit up, a brilliant, unrestrained smile that was a perfect mirror of the hundred others behind him, though his was tinged with a faint, familiar blush as he scratched the back of his head.
Karin, however, reacted differently. The easy confidence she held with Naruto evaporated, replaced by a look of profound, almost reverent awe. She stood a little straighter, her hands clasped loosely behind her back, her wide eyes taking in not just the sight of Hinata, but the palpable aura of power that now surrounded her like a second skin. To Karin's unique senses, Hinata wasn't just a tall, beautiful girl. She was a quiet, deep ocean of controlled energy, a stark and terrifying contrast to the raging, caged inferno she sensed within Naruto.
Hinata offered them a calm, warm smile as she came to a stop, the army of Narutos instinctively parting and then reforming, creating a dense, chattering circle around her. The air was thick with their cheerful, admiring energy.
"Hello, Naruto-kun. Karin-san," she said, her doubled voice a soft, resonant greeting that nonetheless carried a weight of effortless authority.
The clones are visually cataloging our enhanced physical attributes, Venom noted with a purr of smug satisfaction. Their open admiration is logical. The chassis is, after all, a masterpiece of biological engineering. We approve of their correct assessment.
Indeed, the eyes of the clones were wide and appreciative, their gazes sweeping over her broad shoulders, her narrow waist, and the impressive curve of her chest with an honesty that was both flattering and deeply embarrassing.
"Hinata! You came!" the original Naruto exclaimed, stepping forward to draw the focus away from his clones' unsubtle staring. "This is great! With you helping, we'll have this place cleared in no time!"
"I received the request from the council," Hinata replied, her gaze sweeping over the sea of identical, grinning faces. She felt a genuine warmth spread through her chest. "It seems you have already assembled a formidable workforce."
Naruto beamed with pride. "You know it! Pervy Sage showed me how to make the clones work on their own stuff, so I figured, why not put 'em to work for real? The plan is simple! We break into squads. Squads one through ten are on debris, sorting usable stone in that pile, recyclable wood over there. Squads eleven to twenty are on heavy lifting. We clear the whole area, then the Earth Style users can come in and lay a new foundation. Easy peasy!"
Her gaze shifted to the red-haired girl standing slightly behind Naruto. "And you, Karin-san? Will you be assisting with the heavy lifting as well?"
Karin blinked, startled to be addressed so directly. "Oh! No, Hinata-sama," she said, the honorific slipping out naturally. "I was just giving Naruto a report. My sensor abilities aren't really suited for this kind of work. The Hokage's council has assigned me to help the analysis teams first. I'm supposed to sweep the cleared areas for any buried chakra seals or unstable ground before they build. After that, I'm on rotation at the hospital. They think I might be able to help the medics." She offered a small, apologetic smile. "I just came to tell Naruto I wouldn't be able to join him for ramen later. I'll probably be stuck at the hospital until late this evening."
Karin bowed her head slightly to Hinata, a clear gesture of respect. "It was good to see you again, Hinata-sama. Naruto. I'll see you both later." With a final, quick wave, she turned and hurried off, melting back into the bustling streets of the village.
With her departure, the last piece of business was concluded. Naruto turned back to Hinata, his face alight with a fiery, infectious energy. He spun to face his clone army, which had fallen into an expectant silence, their hundred pairs of blue eyes fixed on him. He pumped a fist in the air, his voice a clarion call that echoed across the ruined square.
"Alright, everyone! You heard the plan! Let's get to it! We're gonna rebuild this place bigger and better than ever! Believe it!"
The controlled chaos was a sight to behold. A hundred-throated roar of "YEAH!" ripped through the air, and the orange legion surged forward, a tidal wave of pure, unadulterated energy crashing against the shores of the devastation. They moved with a bizarre, instinctual harmony. Squads of ten would swarm a fallen beam, their combined grunts and heaves a rhythmic chorus as they dragged it towards the designated woodpile. Others formed living chains, passing smaller chunks of rubble from hand to hand with a speed that defied logic. It was a beautiful, frantic, and terrifyingly efficient display of raw manpower.
Hinata, however, was a system. She moved with a quiet, deliberate grace that was a stark contrast to the buzzing swarm around her. Her Byakugan scanned the wreckage, seeking for structural weaknesses, for the key pieces of rubble whose removal would unlock the rest. She was a living crane, her focus absolute. She walked to a colossal slab of stone, the remnant of a market fountain, easily the size of a carriage and weighing several tons. The clones gave it a wide berth, recognizing a task beyond even their combined strength.
She knelt, her knees sinking slightly into the soft earth, her hands finding purchase on the rough, cool stone. She took a slow, deep breath, her muscles coiling like thick hawsers, and then she lifted. The stone, which would have taken a dozen men and a system of levers to budge, rose from the ground with a low groan of protest. And as it did, a hundred pairs of blue eyes stopped their work to watch.
The gazes were a palpable weight, a hundred pinpricks of intense focus tracing the lines of her body. They followed the taut muscles of her back, the powerful swell of her straining thighs, the impossible curve of her spine as she held the immense weight. When she began to walk, her steps slow and steady, their eyes followed the sway of her hips, the flex of her calves. It was a physical touch, a caress of pure, unabashed admiration that sent a wave of heat blooming across her skin, from the nape of her neck to the small of her back.
Their focus is absolute, Venom noted, a low, pleased rumble in her mind. It is a primitive, but effective, display of fealty. They recognize the leader. They recognize perfection.
They were eager to help. As she set the massive slab down in the stone pile with a ground-shaking THUD, a dozen clones were instantly there.
"Here, Hinata-chan! Let us get the smaller pieces around it!" one offered.
"Are you tired? We can bring you some water!" another chimed in.
Their hands would find excuses to brush against hers as they worked near her. A clone, "stumbling" as he passed, would let his hand brush against her thigh for a fraction of a second too long. Another, helping her shift a smaller beam, would place his hand over hers on the wood, his fingers warm and calloused, lingering for a moment before retreating. Each touch was a small jolt, a fresh wave of heat that made her blush furiously. It was embarrassing, deeply, profoundly embarrassing. But beneath the mortification, a new feeling was taking root—a thrilling, heady sense of empowerment. She had spent her life as a ghost, an overlooked disappointment. Now, she was the sun, and a hundred identical boys were helpless satellites caught in her orbit.
Her eyes swept the swarming clones, and she found him. Most of the clones' gazes were simple, open admiration. But one was different. It was a focused, burning point of heat that carried the weight of shared memories—of a forest grove, of a desperate hug, of a whispered apology. She met this clone's eyes for a split second, and he immediately snapped his head away, suddenly finding the sorting of a nearby pile of bricks to be the most fascinating task in the world. A small, knowing smirk touched Hinata's lips before she suppressed it. The real Naruto was here, hiding in plain sight, just as mesmerized as the rest of them.
…Interesting, Venom's thoughts shifted, its analytical gaze turning to the overall operation. The orange one is not merely a force of chaotic destruction. He builds. He organizes. He creates order from rubble with an instinctual efficiency. Perhaps… he could build a nest for us. A lair. A suitable dwelling for a queen and her consort.
Hours melted away in a flurry of focused work and unspoken tension. The sun climbed high, beat down upon them, and began its slow descent towards the western wall. The chaotic jumble of the ruined square was gone, replaced by neat, towering piles of sorted materials. The ground was swept clean, a blank slate awaiting its new foundation.
As Hinata placed the final, twisted metal girder onto its pile, a new group of shinobi arrived. They wore the standard flak jackets of Konoha, their hands already forming the familiar seals of Earth Style jutsu. Their foreman gave Naruto a sharp, impressed nod.
"Incredible work, Uzumaki," he said, his voice gruff with respect. "You've done a week's work in an afternoon. We can take it from here."
With a final, shared thought, the hundred clones dissipated in a mass exodus of white smoke, the sudden silence almost as deafening as their earlier noise had been. Only the original remained, standing alone with Hinata amidst the monuments of their labor, his face streaked with dirt, his body slumped with a deep, satisfying exhaustion.
He ran a grimy hand through his blond hair, letting out a long, weary sigh. "Man… I'm beat," he said, a wide, tired grin spreading across his face. He looked at her, his blue eyes clear and bright. "We make a pretty good team, you know? But all that work…" He clutched his stomach dramatically. "It made me starving! I bet you could eat a whole cow right about now! Whaddya say? My treat. Ichiraku's is calling our names."
The warm, savory steam of Ichiraku Ramen was a comforting blanket, a small, perfect pocket of normalcy in a village still finding its feet. The rhythmic slurp of noodles and the gentle clatter of bowls were a language of their own, a quiet testament to the enduring power of simple pleasures. A formidable tower of empty bowls already stood beside Hinata, a silent monument to her first real meal of the day. It was her sixth bowl. Naruto, halfway through his third, was watching the bottom of his own bowl with an intensity usually reserved for a dangerous new jutsu.
He cleared his throat, his chopsticks fidgeting against the ceramic. "So, uh…" he began, his voice a little strained. He stopped, shook his head, and tried again. "So, how's your team doin'? Kiba and Shino? They okay after all that?"
Hinata paused, daintily wiping her lips with a napkin. Her voice, when it came, was a low, resonant murmur that made Teuchi look up from his broth for a second. "They are well, thank you, Naruto-kun. Kiba-kun is assisting the security patrols in the outer sectors. Shino-kun's clan is inspecting the new foundations for structural integrity. They are… busy."
The simple, safe topic seemed to loosen the knot of awkwardness in Naruto's chest. He nodded, managing a small, genuine smile. "That's good. Everyone's pitchin' in." He fell silent for a moment, his gaze drifting towards the street before returning to her, a new, more serious light in his eyes. "I've been goin' to see them, you know. Gaara and his siblings. The ANBU are letting me visit before they get sent back. I've been talkin' with him."
Hinata's chopsticks froze mid-air. She looked at him, truly looked at him, and saw not the boisterous boy from the academy, but the young man who had placed a gentle hand on a defeated enemy's shoulder.
"He's… different," Naruto continued, his voice quieter now, laced with a surprising empathy. "It's like he's… relearning how to be a boy. He just sits there, mostly. But yesterday, he asked Temari for a cup of water. Said 'please' and everything. She almost started crying." He let out a small, self-conscious laugh. "It's weird, but… I get it. I know what it's like to have everyone look at you like you're a monster."
She remembered the look in his eyes in the forest, after Gaara's monstrous form had crumbled. It was a kinship that transcended enmity, a shared pain she was only now beginning to understand.
"And your team?" she asked softly, her own voice losing some of its alien resonance, becoming gentler.
Naruto's expression brightened instantly at the mention of them. "Sakura-chan is amazing! After the Wave Mission, she got really into all that medical stuff, and now… man, she's been at the hospital almost every day since the invasion, helping out. I think she really found her thing, you know?" His smile faltered slightly, his voice dropping again. "Sasuke… he's different, too." He stared down at his half-eaten ramen, swirling the noodles with his chopsticks. "He helped out with the rebuilding the other day, but… he's been gone since. Just says he's 'training'. He just… gets this look in his eyes sometimes. Like he's a million miles away."
Hinata listened, her own bowl forgotten. She watched the play of emotions on his face. The pride for Sakura, the worried frustration for Sasuke, the deep, strange empathy for Gaara. He was still goofy. He was still loud. He still had a smear of broth on his cheek. But beneath it all was a core of profound, unshakeable maturity. He understood pain. He understood loneliness. He understood the fragile, complicated bonds of a team, of a rival, of an enemy, in a way that felt deeper and more instinctual than her own cold, analytical assessments. He understood things maybe even more than she did.
…The orange one possesses a peculiar knack for mending broken things, Venom observed, its voice a quiet, neutral hum in the back of her mind. A useful, if sentimental, trait.
"Well!" Naruto suddenly declared, shattering the contemplative silence as he slurped down the last of his noodles with a loud, satisfying sound. He slammed the empty bowl onto the counter. "That was amazing! Thanks for the meal, old man!" He turned to Hinata, his grin wide and back to its usual wattage. "I'm stuffed! But I gotta get some sleep if we're gonna move another mountain tomorrow!"
"Yes," Hinata agreed, placing her own empty bowl neatly atop her impressive stack. "We should rest."
He slid off his stool, digging into his frog-shaped wallet. As he paid, he glanced back at her over his shoulder. "See you at the site tomorrow, Hinata? Same time?"
She met his bright blue eyes and felt a genuine smile spread across her own lips, the warmth of the ramen and the conversation settling comfortably in her stomach. "I will be there, Naruto-kun."
The days that followed settled into a rhythm of dust and sweat, a new kind of routine born from the ashes of the old. For Hinata, each morning began with a quiet, focused consumption of food on a scale that would have fed a small family, a necessary ritual to quell the roaring furnace within her. The rest of the day was spent in service of the Leaf. The work was hard, physical, and deeply satisfying. Sometimes, she would find herself working alongside Shino, their silent, efficient teamwork a comfort in its familiarity. Other times, Kiba and his pack would lope by on their patrols, offering a boisterous greeting that was a welcome slice of normalcy.
And then there were the days she worked with Naruto. Those were the best days. The work felt lighter, the sun warmer. Their shared labor had become an easy, unspoken language.
It was during one such afternoon, while they were helping to raise the main support beam of a new watchtower, that she saw him. The flash of white hair and flamboyant red vest was unmistakable. Jiraiya appeared as if from nowhere, pulling Naruto away from the worksite with an air of conspiratorial urgency. Hinata watched from a distance as the Sannin spoke, his hands gesticulating wildly, his expression a strange mixture of serious and lecherous. Naruto's own face went through a rapid series of emotions. First, pure skepticism, then annoyance, then a dawning understanding, and finally, a slow, determined nod that seemed to seal his fate. Hinata felt a small knot of worry form in her stomach. Please, she thought with a silent prayer, don't let it be another 'tactical hugging' mission. But whatever it was, Naruto had agreed.
Later that evening, the truth came out over steaming bowls of miso ramen. The air in Ichiraku was thick with the comfortable silence of two people who no longer needed to fill every moment with chatter. Naruto, however, seemed to be wrestling with his noodles, his usual boisterous energy subdued, replaced by a restless, excited tension. Finally, he put his chopsticks down with a soft click.
"So… I'm leaving for a while," he said, the words tumbling out in a rush.
Hinata looked up, her heart giving a sudden, sharp lurch. "Leaving?"
He nodded, his blue eyes shining with a purpose that was brighter than she had ever seen it. "Pervy Sage… he found a lead. We're going on a mission. A retrieval mission." He leaned forward, his voice dropping to an excited, conspiratorial whisper. "There's this legendary medic-nin out there. Supposed to be the best in the world. Better than anyone in Konoha, maybe better than anyone ever. "Pervy Sage says this person is the only one who can fix all the bad injuries from the invasion. The really bad ones."
His gaze became distant, but full of a fierce, unwavering hope. "He thinks… he thinks that medic-nin can even fix Lee."
The name hung in the air between them, heavy with the memory of broken limbs and a shattered dream. So the mission was about rebuilding people, not only village itself. Hinata's own personal desire, the sharp, sudden pang of wanting him to stay, felt small and selfish in the face of that.
"He said he needs my help to find them," Naruto continued, a note of pride in his voice. "And… he's gonna train me along the way. Properly this time."
She understood. This was his path forward, a journey to become stronger, to protect the people he cared about. A fierce desire to go with him, to be the shield at his back as he chased this noble, hopeful quest, rose in her chest, so powerful it was almost a physical ache. But she knew she couldn't. Her duty was here, in the village, as it rebuilt. She could only offer her support.
"That is… a noble mission, Naruto-kun," she said, her voice a soft, steady anchor against her own swirling emotions. "You will be doing a great service for the village. For Lee-san."
Naruto's face broke into a wide, relieved grin, as if her approval was the final seal of permission he needed. "Yeah! I know! It's gonna be great!"
They finished their meal, the conversation turning to lighter things, but the knowledge of his impending departure hung between them, a quiet, bittersweet farewell. When they finally stood to leave, the setting sun casting long shadows down the street, the air felt different.
"Well… I guess this is goodbye for a bit," he said, scratching the back of his neck with a familiar, awkward gesture.
"Be safe, Naruto-kun," she said, her voice softer than she intended.
He met her gaze, his smile turning a little softer, a little more genuine. "You too, Hinata. Don't let Kiba eat all the good barbecue while I'm gone."
He gave her a final, quick wave and turned, his orange jumpsuit a beacon of defiant optimism as he walked away, towards a new adventure. Hinata watched him go until he was just a small, bright speck in the distance. The street felt colder, emptier without him. He was on a mission with one of the Legendary Sannin. He was going to get stronger. He was going to be fine. He would be alright… wouldn't he?