With her Byakugan activated, Hinata saw everything. He was down there, glowing like a furnace. From her position at the edge of the second level of the Stadium's overlapping seating Hinata saw His constructs slowly beating on the Demon, little static sparks of chakra scattering with each strike of their clubs. And he was keeping all of its attention on himself, his chakra-covered sword cutting and stabbing while he threatened it with more of his burning and explosive tags. It roared and smashed its waves of sand, its limbs changing length and size unpredictably, and Naruto kept on dodging, and being missed by the thickness of a leaf. He was smiling.
She saw Shikamaru. He had gotten himself to a safer position, no longer in danger of being trapped against one of the Stadium walls. He seemed to be trying to do some odd jutsu, with wide and wild motions of his arms instead of just using his fingers. When he saw he had caught her attention he began to make Battle Sign, the sign language of Konoha. Every village had their own version, taught as a basic way to do silent communication. He was signaling to her, she realized, but it was hard to see exactly what he was saying. She let her Byakugan fall away. Things were clearer then.
She sped up to the highest level of the seats… they called them the Perches, because it was said they were there for birds needing someplace to rest, after they had flown up so high. She ran on the guardrail rim until she was as near as possible to the Demon, and a few meters higher. Her arm shot out in confirmation. She could do it, she would do it! She wondered again why actual combat was so much more relaxing to her than being on display in front of Father or a teacher.
Hinata reached into the left thigh pocket of her shorts; took out the thick wad of explosive and incendiary tags Naruto had given her as a thank-you gift for helping train his teammates. She chain linked them, and set a four-second fuse. She tossed the package underhand, lofting it just a little bit, and ran up the tiered seats, and to the left, toward the exit ramp. She was knocked off her feet when the package she had tossed went off in a deafening roar. She scrambled up, not heeding the bruises she had just gained. She ran to the down ramp; she had to get at least three levels lower for her attack.
Finally at the right level, she skidded into the aisle that led to the edge of the level. When she finally was at edge she could see the kneeling Demon below. Every time it tried to get to its feet Naruto, now gleaming red with the odd chakra from behind the seal in his stomach, would hit it with a burst that would stagger it.
Hinata wouldn't waste her chance; she sprinted back upward ten rows of seating, here just rows of open backed benches. Hopping up onto a bench she pumped chakra into her legs, and ran downward with all her speed, Byakugan activated, until from the second row from the edge she jumped, hitting her mark on the guardrail perfectly and soaring up and outward like a skipping stone going for its furthest distance. She was falling, just too long, and then the Demon lurched itself a little more upright so that her outstretched right hand could just grab onto the half-embedded boy's torn and scorched shirt, and so she stopped herself from tumbling down the steep contours of the Demon's hide. She scrambled up to the half exposed torso; Gaara shoved his right hand at her, his fingers crudely formed into a spear point. He had seen how it was done, but why would the Master of Sand have practiced that attack, and who would dare be either his partner or taskmaster at learning it? As the Demon began to send tendrils of sand out to catch and strangle her she knocked Gaara's hand aside, and took her aim. He was still gathering his wits together, while she knew exactly what she was there for, and was far faster. Her left hand shot out, touched the tenketsu point that was on the path between the brain and the heart, the path that said 'beat that I may live.' The pathway that would never again respond for Gaara of the Sands, Gaara the Cursed, Gaara the Victim.
The band of sand around her left ankle tightened, twitched, and spasmed, tossing her out and away, as something basic began to go wrong with the One-Tailed Demon Beast Sukaku's relationship to the physical world. The chakra seal that had confined, tortured, and defined it for so many unthinking years was broken. Like a sailor too long at sea, unable to control his motion when off of his vessel, Shukaku… collapsed for a moment. And then, like a balloon, its outer form burst and its inner nature jetted out into the wide world; to stay together or disperse, no living human could foretell.
Hinata fell, and hit the ground rolling, just like they had said you should in the Academy. As her body made contact with the hard-packed sand again and again her left ankle kept sending jolts of pain that made her grunt, until she finally stopped, face down in the dirt with all the breath knocked out of her.
Before her whirling head had completely steadied itself she felt herself picked up, and gently turned until her head rested like an infant's against a wide red chest, two meters above the ground.
"Move soft," Naruto said to his Oni, having noticed how Hinata's foot was unnaturally turned. "Take her to someplace safe and guard her; leave when she's in good hands.
"Hey, Hinata-chan! You've got your hero papers stamped now, taking down a Jinchuriki like that! Shika and I saw it! You floated like a dandelion seed, and then Wham! I gotta go see what mess the Old Man has got himself into this time, but I'll catch up later!"
With that he was off, with two of the red giants he had made, as the one (with its great club tucked under the thongs holding up its loincloth) carried her to the entrance to the medical center for the Stadium. For a second she saw Shikamaru's head flipping back and forth between her and Naruto, before the boy sighed, and headed off at a sprint after the blond dynamo.