News

Time flew by, and before long, autumn of Konoha's fifty-ninth year arrived.

For Hyuga Ningxue, the past year or so had felt like a preprogrammed routine. Every day, she only needed to follow the schedule and do what she was supposed to do.

Early morning, before dawn.

She woke up on time and carried out intense physical training and chakra control exercises in the courtyard.

Every day, she sweated on that quiet, secluded training ground. Every punch and kick carried a fierce gale, along with her determination for revenge.

Revenge required strength. She had never forgotten that, and it was what kept her going through the dull repetition.

Training ended as the sky began to brighten.

She returned to the kitchen and skillfully prepared breakfast for herself and her mother, as well as her mother's lunchbox.

Her mother's complexion remained pale, and her health fluctuated from good to bad. Those once gentle eyes often stared blankly out the window now, as if part of her soul had long since followed Ningxue's father away.

Ningxue silently set the food before her mother. Mother and daughter faced each other without a word, with only the soft clinking of bowls and chopsticks between them.

Morning, Ninja Academy.

She still sat in that corner by the window, put in her earplugs, and shut herself off from the surrounding noise. Her notebook no longer contained only ninjutsu concepts; it was now filled more often with diagrams analyzing chakra pathways.

Her theory grades remained above average. Neither outstanding nor poor, they perfectly concealed her abilities. She barely interacted with her classmates, and that outburst in the classroom seemed to have been nothing more than a minor incident.

All that remained was distance, along with the occasional fearful glance cast her way.

Shikamaru still occasionally glanced at her with that look that saw through everything, but he also seemed too lazy to investigate further.

In taijutsu, she likewise maintained an ordinary level, whether in basic exercises like running, push-ups, and sit-ups, or even sparring, where she kept herself in check.

Lunch break, rooftop.

She still went there, but more often than not, she was alone. Neji came occasionally, and the two still sat facing each other in silence as they ate, but they spoke even less than before.

The flames of anger they carried and their goals of revenge were the same, but their paths differed. There was no need for words.

Neji grew even more diligent. His training volume had far exceeded what it once was, and the sharpness in his eyes increased by the day.

Afternoon, after school.

She first went home to make sure her mother was all right and prepare the ingredients for dinner. Sometimes, when her mother was unwell, Ningxue even had to wash and hang up both of their clothes.

Only then did she head to the training ground she had arranged with Neji. Their sparring became even more intense. Ningxue no longer held anything back, pouring all the exhaustion, anger, and helplessness accumulated from work and life into every clash.

Neji gave his all as well. In this way, the two honed one another through one ruthless move after another.

Evening, rushing home.

She quickly finished preparing dinner, ate silently with her mother, then cleared away the bowls and chopsticks.

Watching her mother's increasingly haggard profile and the grief in her eyes that refused to fade, Ningxue, never good with words, had no idea how to comfort her. At the same time, her heart ached as though it were being gripped tightly in someone's hand.

Night, Ichiraku Ramen.

She tied on that familiar apron and immersed herself in dishwater and the clamor of customers.

Uncle Teuchi remained kind, occasionally giving her extra wages or food. Naruto was still a regular, loud and boisterous as ever, seemingly always full of energy. Sometimes she ran into other classmates or teachers. The initial awkwardness had long since been replaced by numbness. She simply kept her head down and did her work, only returning home exhausted late at night.

Late at night.

After returning home and seeing that her mother had already fallen asleep, she went to the bathroom to wash up, then lay on her bed and relaxed her mind.

Day after day, month after month. Her coldness had long been replaced by exhaustion. The immense responsibility and pressure made the already quiet girl even more silent.

But only... only the fury of revenge remained engraved in the deepest part of her heart, impossible to wash away.

Yet after that day, she understood the rotten Will of Fire.

She also understood what it meant to be a discarded tool.

That day, an unusual oppression filled the air, along with the faint scent of blood.

On the way to school, pedestrians looked panicked. Their hushed whispers carried incredulous terror.

And from those words, Ningxue picked out the crucial information.

But the news left her utterly horrified.

Because the Uchiha... were all dead! Only one remained.