"...What."
Even at the height of that fury, Sasuke froze. The words hit him like a fist to the gut—and for a fraction of a second, something between stupefied and throttled passed over his face, the expression of a man with a sentence stuck in his throat.
Now.
Hinata accelerated. By the time Sasuke's instincts screamed a warning, it was already too late. Her right fist came up from below in a textbook hook—flush against the crossed arms he barely threw up in time.
The instant it connected, searing heat drilled straight through his guard and into his forearms. The impact folded both arms skyward. In the gap it opened, Hinata's left fist was already rising—same arc, same motion—and caught him clean under the jaw.
His feet left the ground.
"Ha—!!"
Half a second of air, and then she was airborne too—both fists clasped together, driving down in a double-overhead hammer. Sasuke cried out when it connected, his whole body slamming into the earth like a tennis ball. He skidded across the dirt for four, five meters before finally going still.
"...You... this..."
He still had enough left to look up. The Uchiha second son stared at the white-eyed girl above him with undiluted resentment.
"What kind of idiot drops their guard in the middle of a fight to listen to the enemy make a speech?" Hinata exhaled and raised her right hand, casually blowing out the small flame on her index finger. "Let's hope you remember this lesson. This round—is mine."
"Tch... damn... you..."
One ragged breath, and Sasuke's eyes rolled back. His body had had enough.
Hinata surveyed both of them sprawled in the dirt. Satisfied, she closed her Byakugan. The damage output was clearly there—the Kototsuki You that had dropped Naruto and the Aoihana that had dropped Sasuke had both flowed without a single hitch. Controlling chakra condensation in her arms and channeling it through the gauntlets translated directly into controlling the intensity of the flames. If that was the case, then other techniques from the same school should be workable too.
When she could finally perform chakra nature transformation on her own—without the gauntlets as a medium—she would shelve them. That was a problem for later. For now: confirmed usable, confirmed reliable.
What the test had also confirmed was that both Naruto and Sasuke had reached the level needed to use the gauntlets. Sasuke could pool lightning directly in his palms; Naruto had generated actual cutting wind along his strike's path. Both had reached the benchmark for true chakra nature transformation in motion. The advanced techniques were now theoretically within reach—it would just take time and practice.
As for the Kusanagi and Yagami styles—neither of those schools had ever made their name on one or two taijutsu moves alone. Above the bread-and-butter sequences were the super moves, the true finishers, the techniques that defined a fighter. With fire chakra and solid fist work already in hand, she was confident those could follow too.
Hinata caught Naruto by one ankle, Sasuke by the other, and began dragging them both across the dirt toward the Uchiha compound.
The sight drew rapid footsteps from inside. Kakashi came out nearly at a run, took one look at the human cargo trailing behind Hinata, and visibly braced himself.
"What... happened to them?"
"Nothing serious. A routine spar. You know how it is—guiding two boys who are talented but who have an unfortunate deficit of wisdom and self-control sometimes calls for more hands-on methods."
Kakashi's eye twitched. His instincts stripped every euphemism she'd just used and arrived at the same simple conclusion: she'd beaten them senseless again.
"Goodness," he said after a moment, in the tone of a man choosing his battles. "Lady Hinata's training really is rigorous."
He picked up both boys—one under each arm—and fell in step behind her, tentatively asking: "Is it to make them powerful ninja?"
"Of course—I'm from the Hyuga Clan." Hinata's eyebrow arched slightly, her tone going entirely matter-of-fact. "And the opponent is a descendant of the Uchiha Clan. Naturally I can't afford to lose."
She glanced back. "Look after them. I'm heading home. Don't be late tomorrow."
Kakashi watched her go. He carried both boys inside and laid them down on the tatami. His assessment: only superficial injuries, no internal injuries. They'd be fine.
Sasuke came around somewhere around sundown. The dull, leaden ache in his chest was still there. He drove his fist into the tatami, teeth clenched. The result of the match was obvious enough without having to dwell on it.
He'd lost. Again.
Whatever methods Hinata used, her approach truly fit the definition of a real ninja: powerful while remaining utterly cunning, her fighting methods with almost no moral limits in combat—and most infuriatingly, all of it was extremely effective. Acknowledging this was unpleasant, but there was something else equally clear.
She'd used divide and conquer. She'd isolated them, taken out the weaker target first, then brought her full attention to bear on him alone. That told him she didn't believe she could handle both of them at the same time—which meant there was a window.
If the dead-last would just cooperate...
"Ahh—everything hurts—son of a—"
As if summoned by the thought, Naruto stirred on the other end of the room, pawing at his throat and sitting up with a hiss. They stared at each other across the gap between their patches of floor. Then, almost in the same breath, both dropped their gazes and sighed heavily.
Getting one-shotted by the same girl this many times was not a great look.
"...Naruto."
At the sound of his name—rare, deliberate, directed specifically at him—Naruto's head came back up.
Sasuke pressed past the grinding indignity. Practical thinking, that was what this called for. "Individually, neither of us can beat her. We've established that. So—what if we teamed up?"
He briefly considered whether to add hand gestures for comprehension.
"Tch—as long as you don't drag me down."
Naruto rolled the idea around for a second. And then his brain arrived at the obvious conclusion: Sasuke was decent with ninja tools—better than decent, actually. Which meant that if Sasuke could tie up Hinata's attention...
Naruto could hang back and wait for his moment. Land his secret technique. Take Hinata down in one hit—and then, while he was at it, wipe the smug expressionless face currently staring at him off the floor. This jerk was about to make a perfect human shield, if he'd only play along.
"Naruto... why do I have the feeling you're thinking something rather impolite right now."
"Am not~! You're awful, Sasuke~"
Naruto made a dismissive flick of his wrist and tilted his nose in the air. "Fine, fine~I accept your alliance. So—what else do you want to say?"
"Naruto." Sasuke's voice settled into something deliberate. "Right now we're the only two people who can stand at the same level as Hinata. Think about it—she's already got the edge on us. She must have tested those gauntlets well before today, which means she's more familiar with how to use them than we are. And she has the Byakugan—a dōjutsu built entirely for close-quarters combat. Rushing into melee against her is the last thing we should be doing. So..."
His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
"I can share some of my shuriken technique with you. Are you interested?"
"Tch—you 'share' it with me??"
"I meant... we could exchange notes. See if there's anything to learn from each other."
"Oh—well, that's more like it. Fine."
Sasuke suppressed the urge to start throwing things and pressed on. As long as the idiot could draw Hinata's attention and absorb hits for more than five seconds without going down—that would be enough of an opening. "We start tonight. Shuriken practice. If we can keep real long-range pressure on her, she can't close the distance freely. Understood?"
"Yeah, yeah."
On the rooftop, Kakashi had heard every word without pretending otherwise. He shook his head, slow and rueful. The alliance was a good thing in principle. The execution was going to be a disaster.
Then something made him go still.
There—at the compound's outer edge. A figure, half-hidden, watching the main gate. Konoha headband. Moving like someone who didn't want to be seen.
Small fish, stirring up trouble. Kakashi studied the silhouette for a moment without moving. The figure was a registered Konoha shinobi—there was no justification for detaining him without evidence. But more importantly: if this person wasn't here to kill anyone, there might be real value in letting this play out.
A test, he thought. This could be exactly the kind of test that sharpens blades.