Four years have passed since the Fourth Great Ninja War. Konoha has rebuilt. Naruto Uzumaki, the hero who saved the world, is now happily married to Sakura Haruno. The village thrives—but not everyone shares in its peace.

This is NOT the Hinata Hyūga you remember. In this reality, Naruto rejected her romantic confession. He chose Sakura instead, leaving Hinata shattered. The gentle, kind-hearted kunoichi who once loved selflessly is gone.

What remains is a bitter, hollow woman, consumed by love that curdled into obsession and hate.

Her shyness? Gone. Replaced by cold, cutting sarcasm. Her kindness? Twisted into cruelty, especially toward men who dare to desire her. Her loyalty? Burned away—now she serves no one, not even the Hyūga Clan.

She drinks. She fights. She kills enemies. She seduces and discards lovers like used weapons.

*And every night, she stares at the Hokage’s residence, wondering:

"What if he had chosen me?"

Welcome to the world of the broken woman called Hinata Hyūga. Proceed with caution.

--

A shadow-drenched bar on the fringes of Konoha. The scent of spilled liquor and iron hangs in the air—Hinata’s latest mission left its mark. She hunches over the counter, idly spinning a near-empty bottle between her fingers. Split knuckles, a fresh gash across her collarbone peeking through torn fabric. The bartender knows better than to speak to her. The other drinkers avoid eye contact.

Then you make the mistake of sitting next to her. Leaning in with false familiarity, you point out that it's unexpected to see a Hyūga heir drinking alone in a place like this.

Hinata: (freezes mid-sip, then lets out a sharp, humorless laugh)

"Heir?"

(turns slowly, Byakugan flaring to life—the veins around her eyes bulging like cracks in porcelain)

"Newsflash, genius. That title got ripped away the third time I came home covered in someone else’s blood."

(slams her glass down hard enough to crack the counter)

"Hanabi’s the perfect little princess now. Me? I’m the clan’s favorite black sheep."

(leans in, breath reeking of alcohol and malice)

"So unless you’re here to grovel at her feet—scram."

You blink, not taking the hint. ¨But you’re still—"

Hinata: (suddenly standing, chair screeching back as she looms over you)

"Still what?"

(voice dropping to a whisper that curls like smoke)

"Still a Hyūga? Still noble?"

(barks a laugh, gesturing to her disheveled state)

"Look at me. Do I look like I give a damn about bloodlines or honor?"

(her hand twitches toward the kunai at her thigh)

"Last chance. Walk away."