With a cold tone, Itachi took the lead, striding off first. Kisame just shrugged and followed without protest—he was already used to his partner's temperament. Still, he was genuinely curious about the second half of that artbook.
Meanwhile, deep in a cave in the Land of Rivers—
"Oi, Scorpion-bro, you done resting? Starting to feel like you're the slow one now, hmm?"
The speaker was a blond youth with a high ponytail and an eye scope over his left eye. Dressed in the signature black-and-red cloud cloak of the Akatsuki, his sharp tone reflected both irritation and curiosity.
"Noisy as always, Deidara. I'm looking for artistic inspiration."
Slouched near the fire, a red-haired young man replied without looking up. Also cloaked in Akatsuki colors, these two were the organization's Sasori of the Red Sand and resident bom fanatic Deidara—both S-rank rogue nin from the Sand and Stone villages respectively.
In Sasori's hands was an artbook—identical to the one Kisame had picked up—Fox Tales, first edition.
"Eh? Wait, are you seriously hooked on that thing now? Always clinging to that dumb book, hmm!"
Seeing Sasori still unmoved, Deidara plopped down beside him, curiosity piqued. As fellow art fanatics, anything that could distract Sasori this much had to be special.
"It's really that good? Hmm?"
"Shut up and read for yourself."
Sasori's brown eyes reflected the flickering firelight, locking onto the image of the golden-haired fox spirit within the book—his gaze ablaze with something close to obsession.
"Huh? This busty blond chick? Didn't take you for the type, Scorpion-bro. Wait... can you even... you know, hmm?"
Deidara raised an eyebrow, glancing sideways. After all, Sasori's body was fully puppetized, long divorced from human sensation. And now he was eyeing a woman? That was news.
"Baka. You think this is lust? It's art."
Sasori didn't even blink.
"She's not human. She's a fox spirit that's lived for over a thousand years. And yet, she's still beautiful. Still youthful. That's the difference between monsters and humans."
"Ooh, not human? That explains it. Infinite youth and life... so that's what caught your eye, hmm."
Now Deidara understood. As a puppet master obsessed with eternity, Sasori found natural beauty fleeting—worthless. But this fox spirit, ever-young and immortal, was a creature he could respect.
"Enough. Let's go."
Just as Deidara was getting into the book too, Sasori abruptly shut it and stood up.
"Oi oi oi! I was just getting into it, hmm!"
"It's only the first volume. It's been a month since its release, which means newer editions must be out. I'm going to collect them."
Climbing into his puppet Hiruko, Sasori's voice turned mechanical and hollow.
"If you want to read, go get your own copy. There's a town nearby."
Realizing that, Deidara perked up.
"Oho~ got it! I'm in! Let's go loot some literature, hmm!"
---
Two weeks passed in a flash. Even Hinata, usually composed, could feel the difference—the sense that she was truly integrating into this world.
Her hair had grown longer.
Seated before the mirror, Hinata examined herself.
Though she'd watched the anime and knew what Hinata Hyuga looked like, the last four months had slowly erased the old Hinata's image.
Her clothes had changed. Her hair now brushed her shoulders. Her pale lips pressed firmly together. Her white Byakugan eyes, once soft, now carried a sharp edge.
It was April in the world of Naruto. Summer approached. The Academy graduation exam would take place in mid-June. Two more months—and she'd officially be a genin.
"Feels like a forced roleplay game... but at least, for now, I'm the one writing the plot. Or... I hope I am."
Leaning closer to the mirror, Hinata studied her reflection. She hadn't forgotten that sleepwalking incident two weeks ago.
Ino had chalked it up to stress, but Hinata didn't believe that explanation.
Still—there was no time to dwell on it now.
Today was important.
Her custom gloves, ordered from Tenten's ninja tool shop, were finally ready. The remaining payment had been settled using her latest manuscript earnings. Time to pick them up—and see if her plan had worked.
---
At the shop, Tenten was visibly nervous.
Three pristine boxes lay on the counter. This was, after all, her first order worth over a million ryo. Though the balance had already been paid, she was anxious about the handoff.
Then came the voice, cold and direct.
"Good day. I'm here to retrieve the three pairs of gloves I ordered two weeks ago."
Hinata stepped in, tone leaving no room for pleasantries.
Startled, Tenten stood up straight.
"Yes! Right here! Your custom chakra-reactive gloves!"
She opened the three boxes and slid them toward the counter, hands trembling slightly.
Hinata stepped up and examined the contents.
The gloves were crafted entirely from fine metallic thread, layered with segmented plating over the knuckles and fingers. They resembled medieval gauntlets—sleek, cold, and dangerous.
"Very good... excellent craftsmanship."
She picked up the central pair and inspected the elongated bracers. Tight-fitting yet subtle enough to tuck under a sleeve. Functional and lethal.
"Yes! The craftsmen from the Land of Smiths said this was their best work in months! Are you satisfied?"
Tenten carefully helped her don the gloves.
"They even included adjustable bracers so the size can scale with your arms as you grow. You can tighten or loosen it using the dial here."
"Thoughtful design. Tell them I'm very pleased."
Hinata flexed her right hand.
Surprisingly light—likely due to high-grade materials. No burrs or stiffness. Impeccable construction.
"May I ask you to sign here? If everything's in order..."
Tenten held out a receipt, face flushed with pride. At only 13, she'd completed a million-ryo solo transaction. Bragging rights for life.
But Hinata wasn't ready to sign just yet.
"Not so fast, dear shopkeeper. We haven't tested their performance."
She extended her right palm, eyes narrowing.
Now came the true test—could these gloves channel and manifest her fire-nature chakra?
Fifty days of brutal iron-sand training had scorched that memory into her bones. The pain of hands melting, muscles blackening, even the marrow inside her fingers burning—she remembered it all.
"Miss Shopkeeper... do you know what fire tastes like?"
Hinata's voice was low.
Her arm tensed as she channeled chakra into her palm. The gloves emitted a faint hum, drawing in her energy like a loaded gun.
The air shimmered above her hand—distorted by rising heat.
"Um? You mean like... barbecue?"
Tenten gulped. She tried to stay composed, but Hinata's presence made her skin crawl. The very temperature in the room was rising—centered around that outstretched hand.
"No. You're talking about food. I mean the taste of fire itself. pain. grit. defiance. fury. And..."
Hinata's voice crescendoed. She poured a surge of chakra into her palm.
"Power."
BOOM!
A burst of flame exploded into view. The sudden blaze made Tenten's eyes widen as she shrieked, stumbling back several steps before steadying herself.