Without question, the figure's appearance put everyone on edge—everyone except Hinata, who actually felt a measure of relief.
"Oh~ well, well. If it isn't the Demon of the Hidden Mist himself—Momochi Zabuza."
Kakashi raised a hand in a deliberately casual wave, projecting a nonchalance designed to keep his team calm. Zabuza, standing atop the embedded blade, turned to study the man who'd called him by name. After a moment's thought, he gave a slight nod. "You. The one they call Konoha's First Technician—Kakashi of the Sharingan. Didn't expect to run into you like this. You're one of the names in my personal notebook."
The exchange between the two Jōnin did nothing to ease the tension—if anything, it ratcheted it higher. Sasuke instinctively moved to shield Tazuna, clearly sensing Zabuza's purpose.
"I'd love to test your skills, but I happen to be on a job right now. So... Kakashi, how about you hand over the old man behind you?"
Zabuza's narrowed eyes swept pointedly over Team 7's members behind Kakashi. This wasn't submission—it was a threat.
In terms of reputation alone, Zabuza as one of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist and Kakashi as the Sharingan-wielding First Technician stood roughly at parity. One-on-one, the outcome could go either way.
But the problem was that Kakashi currently had four liabilities in tow. That changed the equation entirely.
Modeled out in shinobi-world combat math, the numbers looked roughly like this:
Zabuza's combat power: Executioner's Blade +100, Seven Ninja Swordsmen title +50, Jōnin-tier rating +100. Total: 250.
Kakashi's combat power: three-tomoe Sharingan +100, First Technician title +50, Jōnin-tier rating +100, Tazuna liability −50, three fresh-graduate Genin liabilities −150. Total: 50.
Zabuza had every reason to feel confident. Liabilities subtracted from combat power because the fighter had to constantly guard against attacks on people with zero ability to defend themselves—essentially gifting the enemy a handful of unprotected weak points.
"Excuse me, masked gentleman. What's your shinobi rank?"
From the rear, Hinata spoke up in a level tone. She already had a clear read on the situation, but for the sake of the idiots around her, she had to play her part.
"Hm? This kid... sharp eyes. And those eyes—I do remember them. Hyuga Clan, am I right?"
Zabuza's brow twitched. As a practitioner whose entire combat doctrine revolved around blinding enemies with mist to execute silent kills, the Byakugan—capable of seeing through all obstructions unconditionally—was a natural nemesis. Moreover, while this pale-eyed girl appeared to be another fresh graduate, her composure and bearing showed not a shred of fear toward him. Instead, there was only a strange air of calm detachment bordering on impatience.
Someone with that mindset was either strong enough to back it up, or too foolish to know better.
Either way, Zabuza had no intention of rushing in swinging. Kakashi was his equal in ability; if he could resolve this peacefully, it beat a fight every time.
"Watch yourselves! He's one of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist—his strength is on par with mine!"
Kakashi drew a kunai and lowered his center of gravity, uncertain whether additional enemies lurked nearby.
"On par with Kakashi-sensei—so Jōnin-tier, then. From your behavior, your target is obviously this old man. Is that right?"
Hinata raised a hand and idly twirled a strand of hair near her ear, her tone thoroughly disinterested. "As I recall, we only accepted a C-rank escort mission. At that rank, we shouldn't be encountering Jōnin—or even Genin-level hostiles, for that matter. Isn't that so?"
"Oh~~ interesting. So this old coot lied about the mission rank to Konoha? Well... sounds like this is all just a misunderstanding, then."
Zabuza's brow smoothed out. He'd caught Hinata's drift clearly enough.
"In that case, we really have no reason to fight. Kakashi—hand him over, and we'll pretend we never met."
Looking down at Kakashi from the tree, Zabuza made his proposal with absolute confidence. "Since this old man falsified the mission rank, this no longer concerns you. Isn't that right?"
"Mm... that is technically true. But, even though we didn't kill those two, you really don't care about them?"
Kakashi let out a quiet sigh, slowly straightening up and lowering his combat stance. To that, Zabuza merely scoffed. "They weren't good enough and got killed. That just makes them useless. No point souring things between us over broken tools. So~ leave the old man, and you can go."
The atmosphere turned dangerous again. Tazuna stumbled a step backward in terror, clearly realizing the fate that might await him.
"W-wait! What the hell! Are we just going to abandon our mission?!"
Naturally, Naruto erupted from the side, voice cracking with disbelief. Looking into the blond boy's stricken blue eyes, Hinata felt a sudden and thoroughly malicious impulse surge through her. This guy—he really was an eyesore!
The pale-eyed girl's lips curled into an enigmatic smile. She stepped forward, and without warning hooked her right arm around Naruto's neck. The gesture was undeniably intimate—enough to short-circuit the protesting Naruto into instant paralysis.
"Naruto~ you know what? You... are an eyesore."
She said it without an ounce of concealment. Her breath, laced with mockery, ghosted across Naruto's cheek. Despite the closeness of their bodies, this was no friendly exchange—just one person grinding another under her heel without pretense.
"A long time ago, my approach to obstacles was to remove or destroy them. That was the only way I could keep moving forward. But one day, on a walk, I tripped over a tree root. In my rage I decided to chop the tree down and burn it—but..."
She flicked a finger against the metal plate of Naruto's forehead protector. A rare note of reminiscence crept into her voice. "An elder who saw me stopped me. He told me that rather than eliminating the obstacle, I should reshape it into something useful. That would be far superior to simply clearing it away.
I took his advice. I felled that tree and built a desk and chair from it, and I did receive a better return on my effort. From then on, I changed my approach to obstacles: I preferred to first try reshaping them into something that worked in my favor. Naruto—aren't you a perfect example? Through our partnership, we've both reaped far richer rewards than either of us imagined.
So~"
She pushed Naruto's head down, trapping it in the crook of her arm with undisguised malice. Her voice rang with ironclad certainty.
"This time, too, you don't need to speak up. Just do as I say, the way you always have. After all, you're an idiot—all you're good at is thankless, wasted effort. So? Your answer?"
Hinata's voice carried clearly to everyone present, provoking markedly different reactions. No visible change crossed Kakashi's face, but his eye held a trace of disappointment and resignation. Sasuke's gaze carried a trace of resistance and resentment—he clearly knew he, too, was one of Hinata's "reshaped" obstacles.
Zabuza, for his part, let a thin, appreciative smirk surface. As a rogue ninja, he found Hinata's domineering yet calculating speech anything but off-putting—in fact, he admired it. The weak existed to be reshaped and commanded by the strong. That was simply how things should work, wasn't it?
Naruto, head trapped in her arm, clenched his fists in silence. This was the second time he'd been this close to the girl. The first time, he'd submitted.
"Hah... Hinata, I know I'm not as smart as you. But..."
As he slowly unclenched his hands, his shift in attitude prompted Hinata to release her arm with a cold smirk, her tone dripping with anticipation. "So?"
"I... can't accept that!"
His head snapped up. Naruto's voice carried an unshakeable conviction. "I don't know about mission ranks or enemy identities or any of that! All I know is this! I'm a shinobi of Konoha! A shinobi who accepted a mission! If I abandoned the client and ran just because the enemy outranked the mission tier—I can't do that!"
Having declared his creed at full volume, the blond boy dropped low and charged straight at Zabuza on the tree, his voice blazing with undisguised fighting spirit. "Hey, bandage-face! I don't care if you're the Seven Swordsmen or whatever! If you've got time—put my name in that little notebook of yours! I'm Uzumaki Naruto! The man who's going to be Hokage!"
This unexpected turn made Zabuza's brow knot hard. The peaceful resolution he'd been banking on had just gone completely off the rails—all because of this loudmouthed blond brat!!
"You little punk!! You're dead!!"
Zabuza ripped the Executioner's Blade free in a fury, certain he could cleave this charging brat in half with a single swing—but in that same instant, several flashes of cold light streaked in from his flank, accompanied by a calm, clipped shout: "Take this! Starflower Claw Storm!"
"Tch! Shuriken—you really think you can—what?!"
Zabuza raised the Executioner's Blade in a reflexive horizontal sweep, swatting the incoming shuriken aside. He'd been about to sneer when a jolt of numbness shot up his arm. His eyes widened. Glancing at the deflected shuriken, he finally registered the crackling arcs of electricity clinging to them. These weren't ordinary throwing stars—they were charged with Lightning Release chakra, a specialized technique!
"Bandage-face! Eat my Sonic Boom!"
By now Naruto had closed to the base of the tree. The blond boy inhaled sharply, crossed both arms in a swift motion, and a spinning pale-blue air blade howled upward toward Zabuza on the branch!
"That's... impossible!"
His arm still numb from the residual current, Zabuza hadn't remotely anticipated this situation. In his experience, imbuing shuriken with elemental chakra and generating air blades from thin air both required mastery of Nature Transformation—these two were fresh graduates. How could they possibly execute techniques like that?!
"Damn it!!"
Unable to form hand signs with his paralyzed arm, Zabuza had no choice but to leap desperately from the branch. He could tell that Naruto's Sonic Boom was pure Wind Release—an invisible blade that couldn't be blocked physically. Without ninjutsu to counter it, the only option was to dodge. The clumsiness of his takeoff made it painfully clear how compromised his mobility was.
But at that precise moment, a searing heat—indescribable in its intensity—roared up from behind him!!
The pale-eyed girl had already closed the distance at a speed a full tier above his compromised movement, slipping effortlessly into Zabuza's vulnerable zone. Fierce orange-yellow flames howled to life around her right hand like a raging beast!
"South Dipper Flame-Slaying Fist Ultimate! Orochinagi!"
Without a single hand sign, Hinata lashed her right hand forward. The flames erupted from her five fingertips like pressurized jets, and the torrent of orange-yellow fire engulfed Zabuza's body in a roaring blaze!!
"Guh—aagh..."
Struck by a concentrated blast of compressed flame, Zabuza was swatted out of the air like a volleyball spiked from above. He crashed into the river below with a heavy splash, steam and smoke billowing upward. When he bobbed to the surface several seconds later, he was floating face-down, limbs trailing in the current—clearly unconscious.
If he hadn't let his guard down and gotten drawn in by Naruto's charge, then let himself get blindsided by Sasuke's Starflower Claw Storm paralyzing his arm and preventing hand signs, then been forced airborne by Naruto's Sonic Boom—effectively losing all bodily control, since mid-air course correction without ninjutsu was virtually impossible for a human—then it was hardly surprising that Hinata's aerial Orochinagi connected clean. Team 7's combat experience still lagged well behind a Jōnin's, but Hinata's priority had always been raw destructive power. Even with her incomplete mastery of the ultimate technique, it could already melt stone on contact.
Against that, Zabuza going down in one hit was hardly surprising. In fact, anyone—even the Third Hokage—would have hit the ground just as hard if they'd taken a clean, unresisted Orochinagi.
"Hmph..."
Landing back on solid ground, Hinata extinguished the flames on her right hand with visible irritation. Being forced into this fight had left her thoroughly displeased. Though what exactly she was alluding to was anyone's guess, the pale-eyed girl spat once in contempt.
"Pathetic."