Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or any of the characters.
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She stood in panting hard, her sweat mixing with the rain that was pouring down on her, her hands red and sore from the friction of the hoop spinning in it. Her head was throbbing, she kept slipping, and dropping her hoop on top of her head as she tried to master the trick of spinning your hula hoop above your head. The girl closed her eyes collapsing on the muddy clearing floor. She was exhausted, wet, and very sore. She stared hatefully at the large black hoop that lay against a tree, it had slipped from her hand crashing against a tree. The hoop lay menacingly, unlike the hula-hoops small children use; this one was large, just less then three feet across, with water in it, adding weight. She leaned back, lying on her back, staring at the grey sky as it pelted her with water.
She laid like that for several minutes, before getting up again, and walking over to the cruel black circle, and picked it up. She slid it over her head, holding it around her waist for a moment before thrusting it around, moving her hips to catch the plastic, moving her body with it. She groaned, feeling of the hoop crashing into her sides, her bruises, paining her greatly. She tried to continue on, trying to ignore the sharp pains along her stomach and back, but it was too much. The hoop slipped, she tried to flick it back up with her hip, but it was slippery and fell again. She groaned, picking it up again, putting it to rest on her shoulder as she decided to head home, it was too hard too go on in the downpour, and she had thought she head thunder in the distance.
She walked in silence, head down, watching the trail beneath her feet. As she walked the rain picked up even more, washing the mud off of her. She walked through the woods thinking to herself of ways she could improve. Reaching an end, the would-be path ahead was blocked by bushed and trees, she pushed back a large branch, stepping over a low spot of a bush, finding herself in a tidy backyard. She walked up to it, putting the hoop again the side of the house, on the wrap around deck. She slid open the door, sliding out of her shoes, she moved around her room, grabbing a towel and opening another door to her bathroom. She stood, looking at her reflecting before her mirror. She ran her fingers through her short, blue-black hair. She had pale skin, free of freckles or blemishes, an overall average appearance from her view. The only thing that set her apart from other teens were her pupil-less lilac eyes. "Average…" she whispered to herself.
The dark haired girl moved over to the bath, turning on the water, to the hottest setting. She pulled off her clothing, and sat on the edge of the tub, watching the water rise. She slid in to the steaming tub, her ears above the water's surface, putting in her headphones, listening to A Perfect Circle. As she laid in the water, she completely lost track of time, listening to the rhythmic beats. Only when the CD ran out, did she snap out of her daze, gasping, jumping up, she looked over at the clock on the wall. Seeing it was almost nine at night, she jumped out of the tub. She quickly tried off, wrapping the towel around herself and going back to her room, putting on a sweatshirt and black pants. When she was done she went to her desk, pulling out her sketchbook.
"Hey, Hinata?" a voice said from her doorway.
"Huh?" The dark haired girl looked up, seeing her cousin standing at her door.
"Do you know when Hiashi-sama is coming back from his mission?" the boy asked, he looked a lot like her, the same pale face and lilac eyes. His hair was a deep shade of brown and went back his shoulders; he held it out of his face with a black headband.
"Not till next Tuesday," she replied in a quiet, shy voice. Her father, Hiashi, would be back in ten days.
"Okay, have you eaten dinner yet?" he asked, his voice low.
"No, you?"
"No… I was about to order some ramen, want any?"
"Okay," Hinata replied, "any kind is fine."
"Alright, I'll go order it now," he said before moving out of the room.
Hinata looked back at her drawing, it had yet to take shape yet, but you could tell that it was of a boy. Tore it out at the binding, looking at it a moment, before crumbling it up, knowing that it could never touch the boy's actual appearance.
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Hello everyone! I wrote this story on a whim, please review telling me whether or not I should try to continue with it or not.