Chapter 20 – Fading Light

The night sky over Mizukusa was thick with silence, but the silence broke like glass.

A howl.

Piercing, raw, and desperate. A voice only a creature bound by soul could produce.

Kiba froze. Shino turned toward the rooftops. Kurenai's eyes sharpened as Kuro stumbled into the merchant courtyard, her front paw limping, one eye crusted with dried blood. She collapsed the moment she smelled Hinata's lingering scent.

"Kuro!" Hinata's teammates rushed to her side.

"She's hurt," Kiba muttered, already pulling a small pouch from his gear. "Poisoned maybe... No. Burned. This is something else."

"Let me see her," Kurenai said firmly, kneeling beside them. Kuro whined once, then went limp. Not unconscious, but resting. Gathering strength.

"She ran all this way," Shino said. "From wherever they took Hinata."

"She must've fought," Kiba added, his voice tense. "She wouldn't run unless she had no choice."

Kurenai placed a hand on Kuro's side and closed her eyes for a moment.

"She's strong," she whispered. "But Hinata's stronger. We move at first light. We follow her trail."

As the team prepared, the atmosphere grew heavier. Kiba sat silently beside Kuro, muttering that he'd get her back. Shino adjusted his equipment without a word. Kurenai watched them both—this team, still new, but already tied together by threads deeper than chakra.

<<<< o >>>>

Somewhere in the marshes north of Mizukusa, Hinata stirred.

Her body was heavy. Her limbs refused to obey at first. The room smelled of mold and old stone. It wasn't large—a converted storeroom, perhaps—but it was dry and dark.

Across from her, Takama Gin sat with his back straight, breathing slow and shallow.

"You're awake," he said, voice strained.

Hinata blinked. "Kuro...?"

"She ran. Smart animal."

"Kuro made it…" Hinata said in a murmur "If she made it, they'll come."

That thought steadied her more than any jutsu ever could.

Michel hovered nearby, weak and dim. His spiritual threads trembled faintly, damaged by the venom. "Still here," he thought. "Barely."

His thoughts weren't calm. The venom had nearly torn him apart. But even now, broken and fragmented, he could feel something else forming—something unusual. The spiritual link between Hinata and Takama pulsed like a newly drawn string, strong and bright.

It wasn't like what she shared with Michel. This was not fusion. It was reflection—two lights, flickering in the same rhythm.

Hinata crawled a little closer. "Are you alright?"

"Not yet." He opened one eye. "But breathing."

She looked down. "I'm sorry… if I got you hurt."

"You didn't," he said. "You protected more than you know."

He studied her carefully. "Your spirit... it's unusual. Strong, but fractured. And yet you move with such gentleness."

Hinata lowered her eyes. "You feel... familiar," she whispered, not understanding why. In her heart, something resonated—an echo of someone she didn't remember, but trusted all the same.

Takama tilted his head. "Do you know who it is you think I remind you of?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "But I think... you and whoever it is would get along."

He offered a faint smile. "Then I take that as a compliment."

He bowed his head slightly. "Takama Gin, samurai of the Land of Iron."

Hinata hesitated, then returned the gesture. "Hinata... Hyūga of Konoha."

She nodded, then hesitated. "Do you have children?"

Takama looked to the floor. "One. A son. He's... stubborn. Like his mother was."

Hinata smiled slightly. "That sounds nice."

Before he could answer, the door creaked open.

Three shinobi stepped in, cloaked in grey with waterfall insignias.

"She's awake. Good."

One crouched by Takama. "We know who you are, Takama Gin. We need the formula—the technique—the way your clan channels and cultivates the body's vitality. Without the antidote, your end will be slow and miserable."

"Ask my sword," Takama rasped.

They struck him.

Hinata flinched, crawling forward. "Stop it!"

One of them turned to her. "We'll keep him alive. With enough antidote to keep his heart going. That's all he needs."

Another approached Hinata and pulled up her sleeve. The curse seal shimmered faintly.

"Hyūga. Sealed. She's worthless."

"Can't even pass on the bloodline," said a third. "Branch seals don't just protect—they control. They can't have children without permission from the main family. The seal ensures it."

Hinata didn't flinch. Not outwardly. But inside, something cracked—not pain, but a question she had never dared ask, shame and confusion burned through her. Michel's threads flared weakly.

"Their ignorance doesn't define you," he whispered. But his voice was so faint now; And even if it weren't, it was impossible for her to still be able to hear it.

"She's more valuable as bait. Maybe someone pays for her. Or maybe we test the next venom on her. Honestly... she should be unconscious after that dose. Surprised she's even breathing."

Takama moved.

His foot swept one captor's leg out. The second dodged but caught a headbutt square to the nose. Blood sprayed.

"You will not touch her."

The room exploded into motion.

Three shinobi swarmed him. One struck his neck with a chakra spike. Another landed a solid kick to the ribs. He grunted, dropped, and still tried to rise.

"Fool!" one barked. "We need him alive!"

"Then stop provoking him!" hissed another.

Surprised that the old samurai was able to move while being affected by the terrible poison. They chained him and slammed him back against the floor. 

One of the shinobi leaned close, voice low and cruel. "If you won't talk, we're sure your son will. Another team's already been dispatched. Just like you, he'll be ours soon enough."

Hinata crawled to him. "Takama...?"

He didn't answer. His eyes were closed, breath shallow, but he was alive.

She rested beside him in silence. Then, instinctively, she began to hum. A quiet, wordless tune. Something from a dream.

Something to help him recover like this helps her.

Michel recognized the melody. "That song…" he whispered. "Her mother used to sing it."

Something stirred.

Takama's fingers twitched. His soul, battered and bruised, still shimmered faintly.

And a relief that he could not understand

Hinata placed her small hand over his.

She just waited for morning.

Because darkness, no matter how long it lingers, still ends.