Chapter 95 – After the Serpent Sleeps

Darkness did not leave Hinata all at once.

It peeled away slowly, like layers of damp silk.

She stirred beneath heavy covers. Her breath was shallow, but not hers alone. There was... a second rhythm. Subtle, just beyond her skin. A pulse that rose and fell beside her own.

It wasn't frightening—just foreign.

Her body ached. Not the sharp, defined pain of wounds—but a dull, internal forging. As if her bones had been melted and recast. Her lungs felt stretched. Every breath brought an echo of heat, then cold, like wind passing through a broken flute.

She tried to lift her hand.

It twitched, then moved—sluggishly, as though waking with her.

The air in the room was thick. She could smell salt and smoke, and something else—the faint metallic scent of vitality burned raw.

Her skin was damp. Her nightclothes clung to her body, saturated not with sweat alone, but with something heavier, almost oily. Its smell was disgusting.

A knock, soft.

Then the door opened.

Takama stood there, still dressed in his field cloak, eyes calm but shadowed. He did not smile, but the relief in his posture was plain.

"You're awake," he said simply.

She nodded once. Her throat felt scorched.

He approached slowly, crouched beside her, and touched her hand. His eyes flicked to her chest. Her breathing.

"You're breathing differently."

Hinata swallowed. "There's... It's strange, I feel that when I breathe I feel another breath with me, when I move I feel another movement that follows it." she whispered.

Takama frowned slightly. "Is it hers?"

Hinata closed her eyes. In the dark behind them. She felt warmth.

"Yes."

He exhaled through his nose. "You'll need time. Mitsue too. What you did was... reckless... and yet I'm impressed that you got to this stage of body forging when using the other method we had made so little progress."

She opened her eyes. "How... how is she?"

"In a recovery chamber. Smaller. Sleeping. She hasn't moved since the procedure ended."

Hinata tried to sit up. Her muscles protested, but she managed it.

Takama steadied her but didn't stop her. "Kabuto said your body absorbed more than it should have. You're... not the same."

Hinata nodded slowly. "I don't feel like myself. Not fully."

She reached a hand toward her own chest, where chakra once flowed—once failed. Now, she felt rivers. Two rivers in the same channel, one where her spirit went and the other where her vital energy went... even so, both could not mix with each other... a dissonance between the two.

The flow was slow, the channels were still heavily blocked, but now it was possible.

"Something's been unsealed."

"And something else bound in its place, Now that your channels are open... you feel it, don't you? Your strength—spiritual and physical—still won't merge. The flow is fractured. Once you take the final step in this stage of forging your body, you'll be able to repair it." Takama added.

They sat in silence for a moment. Then Hinata tilted her head.

"Kuro?"

Takama hesitated.

"She... didn't recognize your scent when she came in. She growled. Briefly."

Hinata closed her eyes again. Not from pain, but from weight.

"I'll speak with her," she said softly.

Takama rose. "Not yet. Rest first. Your soul and body are realigning. Your body is still getting rid of unnecessary elements. I'm going to call for someone to come change your clothes and wash you again"

As he left, she laid back again.

And in the space between breath and silence, she heard it.

the sound of a serpent breathing within her.

There in that instant Hinata can feel it... that is the reason for the disorientation, the connection between the two is still there although weaker... Hinata feels how the connection weakens with each breath... with enough time the synchronicity will break.

<<<< o >>>>

That afternoon, once the worst of the discomfort had faded...

Hinata now lay in clean robes, her body swathed in soft linens scented with herbs that helped dispel the clinging stench of the procedure. She sat propped slightly upright against a wall of cushions, her hair loosely tied, her hands resting atop a warm blanket. Her breath had steadied, though that quiet echo inside her remained.

The door creaked softly.

Kuro stepped in, cautiously.

Hinata felt it before she heard her. The paw pads she knew so well, slow and hesitant.

Kuro's head poked around the frame, her one eye wary, her tail low. She sniffed the air and flinched, wrinkling her nose.

"I know," Hinata murmured, her voice calm but weary. "I smelled awful. And I didn't feel like me."

Kuro whined—a small, sharp sound—and padded in further. Her gaze remained fixed on Hinata, conflicted, as if trying to distinguish between familiarity and something alien.

Hinata extended a trembling hand.

Kuro paused. Then slowly approached.

She sniffed Hinata's fingers, then her robes. Finally, she pressed her snout gently into Hinata's palm.

"I missed you too," Hinata whispered, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes.

Kuro whined again, lower this time, and climbed onto the edge of the bedding, resting her head beside Hinata's thigh.

"I don't blame you," Hinata said. "You sensed the serpent... Mitsue. She's still there. But she won't hurt you. Or me."

Kuro said nothing, but her body relaxed against Hinata's side.

Hinata leaned back into the cushions, her fingers stroking behind Kuro's ear.

For the first time since waking, her body no longer felt like a battlefield.

It felt like home—shared, strange, but no longer alone.

<<<< o >>>>

Hinata stood slowly, leaning on Takama's arm. Her bare feet touched the cold floor, and every step felt like balancing on glass. Her body no longer obeyed her instincts—it moved too quickly, too sharply. The delay between thought and action was gone. It was as if her body was now tuned to a frequency she hadn't learned to hear yet.

She was led through dim hallways to a small chamber lined with screens of pale paper. Kuro walked behind her, unusually quiet.

Inside, Orochimaru and Kabuto were already waiting, scrolls, diagrams, and chakra-monitoring seals arranged across a lacquered table. Orochimaru stood with arms folded. Kabuto adjusted a recording seal, nodding to himself as Hinata entered.

"Sit," Orochimaru said.

Takama helped her into a cushioned chair. Kuro sat at her feet.

Orochimaru's gaze swept over her with clinical curiosity, but he spoke with a surprising calm.

"Your recovery is progressing," he said. "But there are two matters we must discuss."

Hinata nodded slowly. "I'm listening."

Kabuto stepped forward, lifting a scroll with seal diagrams.

"First," Orochimaru began, "we've confirmed that the chakra pathways we hoped to restore are not yet fully functional. Despite the partial regeneration of your network, your body still does not circulate chakra the way it should. We don't yet know why. But,"—he raised a finger—"I am confident that once your network stabilizes, we'll be able to isolate the obstruction. I still believe chakra usage will be possible."

Hinata said nothing, but her hand closed gently over Kuro's fur. A single, slow breath.

"And the second?"

Kabuto answered. "The procedure—this kind of chakra and body-altering fusion—places immense strain on both subject and vessel. We expected another session might be possible in the coming weeks, but..."

Orochimaru interrupted. "Your body worked harder than anticipated. Had we repeated the process too soon, the consequences might have been... fatal."

Takama's jaw clenched.

"We will wait six months," Orochimaru said. "Not less. You must adapt to the current changes. Let the regeneration complete. Then... we proceed with the final step. One more session should be enough."

Hinata nodded again. Slowly. "Understood."

She did not feel defeated. Only quiet. Her body ached, but not with failure. It pulsed with something new. Something waiting.

She met Orochimaru's gaze. "Next time... I'll be ready."

Kuro rested her chin on Hinata's foot.

And for the first time since the procedure, Hinata smiled.

<<<< o >>>>

In the quiet stillness that followed her meeting with Orochimaru, Hinata sat alone in her meditation chamber. The room was dim, lit only by a single thread of light cascading from a thin slit in the ceiling—a place between worlds, between sleep and spirit, where she had often guided others into the Silver World.

But this time, she came without titles.

Not as the Silver Lady. Not as a priestess.

Just Hinata.

A ripple shimmered across the floor. The air thickened, and slowly, a coiling presence manifested—Mitsue, no longer monstrous, but still vast and strange, her form ethereal within this half-spiritual domain.

Hinata stood, steady now, and faced her.

"We made a promise," she said softly, her hands open at her sides. "When we met, I didn't offer you control, or orders. I offered you a choice. And I still do."

Mitsue's form hovered with uncertainty. The chakra thread between them flickered—still dull, still fragile.

Hinata stepped closer. "I won't bind you with names or roles. I'll show you a path. One that can be yours."

She extended her hand—not a command, but an invitation.

Mitsue lowered her head.

For a moment, silence.

Then, the thread between them pulsed.

It shimmered—once, then again—until it turned silver.

Hinata smiled. "Then let's go together."

And with the whisper of shared breath, the two crossed into the Silver World—together, not as master and summon, but as chosen companions.

<<<< o >>>>

The morning of their departure from Otogakure came with a strange stillness. The corridors were quiet, even Kabuto was nowhere to be seen. Hinata walked slowly, her steps steadier than days before, though the ache in her muscles reminded her with every movement that healing was still ongoing.

Outside one of the inner courtyards, she found Sasuke leaning against a stone pillar, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded as if waiting for her.

"You're leaving," he said.

Hinata nodded. "Soon."

He didn't look at her right away. The silence lingered for a moment too long.

"I came here for power," he admitted, his voice quiet. Honest.

Hinata stood beside him. "I know," she replied softly. "Even someone blind could see that."

That drew a faint smirk from him. "Still... thank you for not mocking me."

"I appreciate that you told me yourself," she said. "That means more than you think."

Sasuke's gaze shifted, finally meeting hers. "And you? Your procedure... did it work?"

Hinata exhaled slowly. "In part. My grandfather once told me that fortune sometimes favors the brave... but often, the brave die chasing foolish victories."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I was reckless," she continued. "I paid the price. But don't worry. In six to eight months, I'll return to finish what I started."

Sasuke nodded slowly. "So you're not done yet."

Hinata smiled faintly. "No. And maybe next time we fight, we can use more than just kenjutsu."

A silence passed between them—not empty, but full of unspoken understanding.

Then Hinata turned.

"I'll see you again, Sasuke."

This time, he didn't hesitate.

"Yeah. You will."