I had lived in the same town for sixteen years but, after realization had finally dawned on me, that he was gone, Konoha didn't feel the same anymore. Like Sophie from Howl's Moving Castle, I was sixteen going on eighty. Cold swept through my bones, rendering me useless and my legs buckled, refusing to hold me any longer. I no longer felt like Hyuga Hinata.
Konohagakure, better known as Konoha, was a tiny town with a population of almost a thousand. Almost, but not quite. The local high school itself had close to one hundred students, almost thirty of them from out of town from a rural area. I myself lived in the upper floor of an antique shop and the smell of dust, must and cobwebs was probably way worse than wheat and cow manure. Fortunately, I didn't have the experience to compare.
Anyways, Konoha was known for being resurrected during the Edo Era by two clans, the Uchiha Clan and the Senju Clan, whom where the strongest. At first, nothing but mercenary clans existed but after much bloodshed, the Senju Clan offered a truce with the Uchiha. The leader of the Uchiha, Madara Uchiha objected but was forced by the rest of his clan to accept. The Senju, the Uchiha and the other clans conquered by the Uchiha came together to create Konohagakure. The leader of the Senju Clan, Hashirama Senju using a special, ancient technique called ninjutsu, which involving something called chakra, to create the first building in Konoha. Because of this, he was selected to be the First Hokage by the villagers, over Madara Uchiha.
Somewhere near Konoha is Sunagakure, which was founded by the First Kazekage, whom gathered desert dwelling shinobi-someone skilled in ninjutsu-under his control with his overwhelming power. At some point, the village came into possession of one of the nine legendary beasts. It was sealed into three different hosts so that the abilities could be studied. The Third Kazekage was able to emulate the beast's abilities, earning the recognition of the strongest Kazekage in history.
Knowing all this about my home and the town beside me did not comfort me nor did it warm the frost that was forming on my heart. My village, my town, my home had become something that you couldn't read about in textbooks or on the internet, or hear about from teachers or historians. It was not something one could prepare for, no matter what.
Grabbing the picture frame from my nightstand, I unclipped the back and pulled out a smaller picture that was hidden behind the one of my friends and I that the frame displayed. It was old, the edges torn and the color aged. In it was of my family. The family I was born with. In the middle was me, small with bob cut hair and rosy cheeks. To my right was my father, looking stern in his suit and his hair tied back, pulling his features taunt. To my left was my mother. Her skin was fair and her long wavy hair the color of eggplant, like mine. Her eyes were closed from her wide smile and she was dressed in a flowing sundress that draped over her youthful curves. I looked like her more than my father, but I inherited his eyes. White. My eyes were plain, milky, white with no iris nor pupil. They were just white.
I had no memories of my mother, for she was died a little after my third birthday, a point which I couldn't remember like most. My father however, was a different tale.
The best memory I had of him, the one that was the most vivid in my mind, was when I was six, just three years after the photo with my mother was taken. I was clutching onto my father's pant leg. It was cold, as if he gave no body heat and the color of the suit was a muted gray like ashen clouds. Dangling at his sides were his arms, not touching me. He was indifferent to my presence beside him but I wasn't too worried back then. I was more focused on who was in front of me.
Across from me was my cousin, Hyuga Neji, whom was a year older than me and the son of my father's twin brother. Unlike my father, Neji's father was warmer, his face aged with kindness, wrinkles crinkling the edges of his eyes and his laugh lines prominent. One of his palms was rested against the crown of Neji's head, pushing him against his leg. He and my father began talking but I wasn't listening to them. Neji had called me cute and blushed, a red so vibrant it made mine seem nothing more than a pink tinge.
My father's voice vibrated through me, the words frosty in the boiling summer heat. He was telling me to go. For the first time, father's hand came and pushed me forwards. Stumbling, I barely caught myself. Insistent, my father ordered me to go to my uncle again, whom I had never met before. He seemed kind enough in my young eyes. Neji passes by me and headed towards my father, whom immediately grabbed his arm. Peering over my shoulder, I was hoping to catch my father's gaze but his eyes were locked with his brother's. Frowning, I waddled over to my uncle, who crouched and patted both of my shoulders. "Hello wee little Hinata. It's nice to meet you again. I'm your Uncle Hizashi." again? I had never met him before. Perhaps he had seen me when I was a baby. In my six year old mind though, I never noticed his slip up.
That was the first time I had met Uncle Hizashi, whom from that moment on became my guardian. That was the day my father traded me for my cousin who was better than me. Or at least, that's what I thought. I had asked Uncle Hizashi why father didn't want me and he told me it was because I looked to much like my mother that it was painful for him to look at me. Eventually, Uncle Hizashi said, he would get over it, get over his loss. Then, we would be a family again.
Those were lies.