POV: Hinata
Morning came far too early.
I stirred in my blankets, a small groggy bundle of limbs and half-formed complaints, before the sensation in my stomach grew loud enough to override every other thought. The warm cocoon of sleep was no match for the gnawing, insistent emptiness inside me. I made a small noise—more whimper than cry—but it quickly turned into full-on newborn distress when it became clear that no one was coming immediately.
Poor Hikari… she probably thought she could enjoy a few extra minutes of peace. Not today. I took a deep breath and began my best approximation of an air raid siren. The result was horrifyingly effective.
Her face appeared above me, bleary-eyed but smiling softly, as if this exact situation was both expected and inevitable.
"Good morning, my little princess," she whispered, lifting me into her arms.
The familiar warmth enveloped me, the sway of her movements soothing even before I got what I really wanted. And then—ah, there it was. Breakfast. The world narrowed to that one comfort, and for a short while there was nothing but the steady rhythm of feeding.
Of course, peace never lasts. My digestion decided it had an opinion about timing. Within minutes, my dignity suffered yet another catastrophic hit.
Wonderful. Here we go again.
Hikari, to her credit, didn't even sigh. She set about her work with the practiced efficiency of someone who had accepted that her immediate future involved an endless loop of feeding, cleaning, and coaxing me to sleep. I tried to squirm away during the indignity of the change, but let's be real—my current body offered the mobility of a particularly lazy potato.
Once the clean linen was in place and I was snug again, I expected to be set down for a nap. Instead, I noticed movement in the corner of my vision. Someone else was entering the room.
Tall. Straight-backed. Dressed in pristine clan robes that seemed to carry authority in every fold. His long dark hair was tied neatly, and his pale eyes—the unmistakable mark of the Hyūga—were fixed on me.
So… this was Hiashi Hyūga. My father.
I'd seen enough episodes of Naruto in my past life to know the man's reputation: stern, proud, sometimes cold. But here, as he stepped closer, I saw something very different flicker across his face.
"May I?" he asked Hikari softly. She nodded, smiling, and gently passed me into his arms.
The shift in position was smooth, practiced. His hold was secure, but not stiff—like he knew exactly how to support such a fragile little being. His pale eyes studied me for a long moment, and then, to my utter shock, his expression softened into something I could only call… fond.
"Well, aren't you a quiet one this morning," he murmured.
Quiet? Me? That was debatable, but I let it slide.
Then he did something I absolutely did not expect. He played with me. A light touch to my cheek, a gentle jiggle, even—was that a tickle? I giggled before I could stop myself. The sound startled even me;
The corners of his mouth tugged upward. "That's better," he said, as if my amusement was some rare treasure.
I wasn't prepared for the strange comfort that brought. In another life, my father had been a distant figure—sometimes absent entirely. Here… I wasn't sure yet. But maybe this version of Hiashi was different, at least with his infant daughter.
He rocked me slowly, murmuring something to Hikari I couldn't quite follow, and then bent slightly to retrieve something from a nearby chest. When he returned, he placed a plush rabbit into my arms—or rather, onto my chest, since my current grip strength was laughable.
The thing was huge compared to me, all soft fabric and long ears, and smelled faintly of clean cotton.
"For my little genius," he said.
…Wait. What?
Little genius? Oh, crap. Had I been too obvious? Did he suspect?
I froze for a heartbeat, then, in a moment of curiosity mixed with poor judgment, decided to test him. I reached for that familiar warmth inside me, opened the flow to my eyes, and—
Byakugan, active.
The world expanded in an instant: chakra threads, walls transparent to my vision, the fine shimmer of energy within the man holding me. Hiashi's eyes widened ever so slightly.
"You can… understand me, can't you, Hinata?"
Oh, shit. Oh shit oh shit. Panic flared.
I responded the only way a newborn could without incriminating herself—by giggling like an idiot. Then I deliberately deactivated the Byakugan, reactivated it, and turned it off again, pretending it was all some happy accident of baby curiosity.
Hiashi let out a long, quiet sigh, shaking his head. "My little princess… you are too talented for your own good."
The words sank deep. They weren't just idle praise—they were a reminder. I wasn't in a safe, cozy little bubble. This was Naruto's world.
And in Naruto's world, being too talented could get you killed.
Danzo's face flashed in my mind, followed by the ever-watchful eyes of Hiruzen and the shadow of Root. I realized, with a sinking feeling, that my training had been far from subtle. This was a clan full of people who could see chakra through walls. If anyone had been paying attention, my little "practice sessions" with the Byakugan would have been as obvious as a firework display.
Idiot.
From now on, I'd have to be much more careful. My progress was good, but survival required patience. No more flashy demonstrations unless I was absolutely certain no one could witness them.
Hiashi eventually placed me back in my crib, tucking the plush rabbit beside me. His face had returned to its composed mask, but the softness hadn't vanished entirely.
"Hikari," he said, his voice low but serious, "I've assigned Hinata two personal guards. We must make sure the elders—and especially anyone outside the clan—never learn of her abilities. If word got out, she would be in unimaginable danger. The guards are sworn to silence and answer only to her or to me."
Hikari's gaze hardened slightly, though her voice remained gentle. "I understand, Hiashi. I just hope our little princess can grow up in peace."
The warmth of their voices faded into a gentle hum as sleep pulled at me again. My last conscious thought, before the darkness claimed me, was a mix of determination and caution.
Peace would be nice… but I'll settle for surviving long enough to earn it.