Chapter 51: Leverage and the Secret Manual  

The Elite Class classroom was thick with drowsy monotony. 

Even the lush pothos plant by the window seemed to wilt under the weight of boredom. 

Naruto, for once, was diligently copying notes—though his face twisted in agony. He glanced at the stern-faced Hikari beside him, swallowed his complaints, and forced himself to keep writing. 

Meanwhile, " Hikari" sat rigid, her Byakugan locked onto the restroom's aftermath. 

Through their shared vision, she watched as Hinata—tear-streaked and trembling—cleaned herself up. The girl slumped into her seat, exhaustion plain on her face. 

Mission accomplished. 

The real Hikari had already left. 

Everything had gone smoothly. 

This version of Hinata—still unhardened by war, still cowed by fear—was nothing like the girl who'd once stood against Pain. 

Pathetic. 

The Hyūga heiress, bullied into submission by a mere child. 

No resistance. No defiance. 

Just raw, whimpering terror. 

" Hikari" ran through the plan again. No flaws. 

With both her and the original's Byakugan active, they'd created an impenetrable surveillance net. No witnesses. No mistakes. 

Now, the stubborn Neji would be the original's problem. 

Her job? 

Break Hinata further. 

And claim the Eight Trigrams Palms secrets. 

The Shadow Clone Technique really is absurdly useful. 

As one of those clones, " Hikari" couldn't help but marvel at the Second Hokage's genius. 

Flying Thunder God. Shadow Clones. Reanimation Jutsu. 

Each a forbidden art rivaling kekkei genkai. 

If only someone could merge Hashirama's raw power with Tobirama's intellect—that would be a true Shinobi God. 

Her fingers traced her cheek. 

…Perhaps I'm the only one who could achieve that now. 

A humorless smirk curled her lips. 

Her Byakugan never wavered from Hinata. If the girl tried anything, this clone's final role would be simple: 

Cause a distraction. 

Buy time for the original to ignite the Eight Gates and flee. 

At full speed, muscles burning for propulsion, not even Konoha's best could catch her. 

Elsewhere, " Hikari" was hitting a wall. 

She'd tried mimicking Gaara's sand platform—using water to fly. 

Failed. 

Too heavy. Too unstable. 

Next, avian shapes. 

No luck. 

Water's fluidity was a double-edged sword. Pressure deformed it instantly. 

But experiments bore fruit: 

Piscine. Serpentine. Web-like structures. 

The spiderweb that had loomed over Hinata? A recent breakthrough. 

Beyond intimidation, the hollow mesh reduced drag while enhancing tensile strength. Less brute force, more precision. 

Now, " Hikari" was obsessed—testing every shape imaginable. 

Of course, chakra consumption skyrocketed. 

Luckily, the original's Eight Gates training compensated. 

Before the Gate of Injury, the technique doesn't harm the body—just harnesses wasted vitality. 

Her reserves had swelled from low-Jōnin to mid-Jōnin level. 

Open the Gate of Injury, and she'd surpass… 

Kakashi Hatake. 

…Wait. 

A grimace. 

All this—tailored beasts, Eight Gates—and my chakra's barely on par with the series' most stamina-starved ninja? 

Pathetic. 

Knock. Knock. Knock. 

The classroom door interrupted Iruka's lecture. 

"Come in." 

The hinges creaked. 

A drenched, shivering Hinata shuffled inside. 

Iruka's irritation melted into concern. 

"Hinata, what—?" 

"I—" 

Her eyes darted to the back row. 

To her. 

" Hikari" grinned behind her bandages, fangs glinting. 

A silent threat. 

One wrong move, little rabbit. 

Hinata's voice cracked. 

"I… slipped. At the sink." 

Iruka eyed her soaked clothes. 

(Her pallor. Her shaking.) 

But her meek demeanor wasn't unusual. 

"Do you need to go home and change?" 

"No!" 

Too sharp. Too fast. 

Hikari's orders were clear: Deliver the manual today. 

Going home meant disappearing on the way. 

Hinata scurried to her seat. 

The damp fabric clung, cold as the gaze drilling into her spine. 

Beside her, Ino frowned. 

"You okay?" 

"F-Fine." 

Hinata ducked her head, flipping open a notebook. 

Eight Trigrams Palms. 

Page after page, her pen scratched secrets into treason. 

Three classes passed. 

The bell rang. 

Through the chaos, only two remained still: 

The scribe. 

The overseer. 

Scritch-scratch. 

Finally— 

Click. 

The pen capped. 

Hinata stared at the filled pages. 

This much… It's all I remember. 

If the clan found out… 

Disowned. Executed. 

A tear splattered the paper. 

She wiped it away, stood, and turned. 

The entire class watched as she approached Hikari. 

"H-Here." 

The notebook trembled in her hands. 

Hikari took it, smiling sweetly. 

"Thank you." 

Leverage secured. 

Even if Hinata recanted now, the evidence was undeniable. 

Her father, Hyūga Hiashi, would face scrutiny. 

She was trapped. 

"You did well, Hinata." 

The praise—something she'd craved from her father—now tasted like ash. 

"Keep it up." 

"Y-Yes…" 

Her voice was hollow. 

Defeated. 

(✧ω✧)