DISCLAIMER: I do not own Naruto . . . how sad. Hope you like my story
The Power of Goodbye
Prologue
A tall man, dressed in all black, stood outside of an apartment door he was breathing heavily. He had just climbed three stories of stairs; because the elevator was out of order. He lifted up the heavy brief case off the ground that he had with him and he knocked on the door. After a few seconds of waiting he could hear someone undoing a few locks. The door was slowly pulled inward, causing the man only to see a vacant hallway. But then as the door was pulled open wider, he could see a tall, very pale man.
"Why, what a surprise." The man behind the door said with no enthusiasm at all as he gestured him to come in.
"Yes, quite." Replied the man as he stepped in and went down the hallway and into a small living room. There were no windows that he could see, nor were there any pictures of any sort. It looked as if the pale man had just bought the place and hadn't bothered to do anything with it. The man sat down in a large, black leather chair and across from him the pale man sat down on a black couch. The pale man had long, greasy looking black hair, and a look that would make anyone step away from him in a crowded elevator.
"So, why did you come visit me in my humble home?" The pale man asked as he pulled out what looked like an over-sized butter knife. The black man eyed the giant butter knife and said
" . . . I need a murder to be done."
The pale man looked up from examining his butter knife, then without a warning, he threw the knife at the wall behind the other man's head. It slipped though the wall as if the were air and only stopped when the hilt was caught on the wall.
"What kind of murder." He hissed the last word, sending shivers down the spine of the other man.
"A good one, if that's what you mean. I don't want anyone to know it was me that hired them." He said as his eyes shifted to the supposed butter knife sticking not three inches from his face.
"Hmm . . . if you have good money, I think I can do that." The pale man said as a finger came to rest on his chin as if he was in deep though.
"I do." He said as he gestured to the briefcase. The pale man eyed it and nodded. The man pulled it up onto his lap. He pulled a key that was hanging from a necklace from his neck and slid the key into the lock. There was an unmistakable 'click' as the lid slowly slid open. The man slowly turned it, as though not wanting to let it go, and give it to some whacked Michael Jackson remake, so the Michael Jackson wannabe could look. The pale man's eyes widened. Inside the briefcase were wads of case. He reached out a hand unconsciously and was about to take it when the lid was snapped shut. The pale man hissed but sat back in his couch.
"So, do we have an accord?" The man in black asked, the pale man kept silent for a long time.
" . . . Yes, I believe we do. Just how do you want this done?" The pale man finally answered.
"Well, I don't want this to be some ordinary murder; I want to show that I am dangerous and that I am a treat, not some side-lines wannabe. But also quiet, so that only the one who is murdered will know it was me." The pale man sat, pondering of who to send, while the man in black was talking.
"Hmm . . . and just who do you want murdered?" The pale man asked. The man in black just smiled and as much as he would never do it, he leaned in close and whispered a name in the pale man's ear. The pale man's eyes widened drastically as the quiet name escaped the lips. He was going to ask 'Are you serious' but the look on the black man's face gave the answer to him. So the pale man bit back his tongue. But he was finally able to find it again.
"That will be difficult, but I am the best so it won't be too hard. I think the best way is not murder actually." The pale man said as he was examining his finger nails. The man in black sat there dumbfounded.
"Not murder? Then what is the best why to do it 'Oh-so-right-one'?" The pale man simply shook his hand in a shooing motion.
"I know what I am doing. Besides, haven't you realized that if you kill him, all of his money will go to his heir. And we don't want that, now do we?" The man in black's jaw dropped
"How did he know I was after the money?" the man though as the pale man opened his mouth to continue speaking, and as though he read his thoughts, the pale man answered.
"I know your in it for the money, anyone wanting to kill that man would only want to kill him for his money." The pale man stated matter-of-factually.
"Erm . . . well, yes." The man relied
"And so, you must have realized that you can't just kill him. And killing the whole family is really hard to do. So I think we need to make him gratefully give you the money." The pale man said as he got up from his couch to go retrieve the butter knife sticking out of the wall.
"Well, how are we supposed to do that? He would never give his money to me just because I have something of his--." Although the pale man just smiled.
"I know my trait, Hizashi, so please don't question it." The pale man gestured for Hizashi to get up off of the leather chair. The pale man said as he lead Hizashi back though the hallway and out the door.
"So, this is a go, Orochimaru?" Hizashi asked and was going to walk away when he felt a firm grip on his upper arm.
"It is" Orochimaru replied as he slammed the door in Hizashi's face. He stood there stunned for a second, but then glanced at his watch, gasped and started running down the stairs of the apartment, trying to get to his destination on time. But before he could make the first corner, a flying object flew past his head and onto the wall near him. Oh the object, which resembled an unusually large fork, was a curled up piece of paper and before he took the paper a single thought ran though his mind:
"What is it with this guy and un-usually large cutlery?" As soon as the thought was out of his mind Hizashi reached out and un-folded it. It was a note, Hizashi read it and nodded as he continued running down the corridor. On the note read:
I know who to send. He likes explosives.
Chapter One
She sat there, her hands wrapped around her knees, she looked up. If anyone was around, she would have never dared to lift up her face to reveal the pain she was in. Her face was tearstained and red. She had been crying for most of the day, and allot of the night before. She eyes, shockingly, were still their same cloudy grey, not a single shade of red or pink at all in them. As she lifted her head, more tears spilled out of her eyes and onto the roots of the tree that she was sitting under. The sky was painful shade of grey.
"Just like my eyes . . ." The girl thought as she bent her head back down to look at the ground again, she picked a stick and started to draw little squiggles in the dirt around her.
She was sitting in the middle of the forest that was behind her house. She knew that no one would be looking for her, and she didn't want anyone to find her at the moment, so she thought it was a good place to be.
"No one cares for me." She thought as she drew a rose in the dirt "My sister practically forgets I exist, and Father . . ." She thought as another roll of tears ran down her cheek and onto the forest floor. Her father was a very, very, very rich man; he owned and operated the 'Hyuuga Industry'. It owned most of the shops around town. Without the 'Hyuuga Industry' their city that they call home would be in financial ruin and over three quarters of the population would have moved away, hoping for a better job and life. Even though being rich was a nice comfort to Hinata, many men envied her father, especially some of the men working in lower ranking jobs in the Industry. So it was no surprise that her family had gotten attacked before. Normally they would try to break into their house, but they had the best, high tech security around, so most of them couldn't get in. And so far, they were able to catch them and they were never seen again. Even with the security her father hated it when either her or her sister went out alone. He thought that there were too many dangers. There was this once case (when her father was still a boy and his father was in control of the company) when the family went outside for a pick-nick, these men dressed in black cloaks with red clouds on them, with guns in hand they had tried to do away with the family. But, there were other people in the park so they called the police and they rushed over there as fast as a rabbit running from a hawk. Nothing like that had happened again. But her father didn't want to risk anything.
She decided to look around, to make sure no one was watching. Since she ran down here last night, she had not looked around her to see where she was going. All she saw last night was . . . him. In every tree, in every bush, in every reflection in the puddles that littered the forest floor like stuffed animals in a five year olds bedroom. The only way that she thought was the only way to forget about him, was running. And running until her legs couldn't carry her anymore, until she got so tired that she couldn't see anymore and she her legs wouldn't obey her, and so she had flopped down under some random tree and stayed there all night.
She looked, and luckily, she only saw trees and bushes. She sighed a breath of relief. But then sucked it back in quickly. She thought she had explored every inch of this forest. But apparently, she hadn't. She looked around frantically, her short blue hair swung in her eyes as she turned her head this way and that, trying to look for some sort of land-mark, or anything that could distinguish which way she would need to go to get out. Finally it clicked, the last thing that she thought would ever happen in this forest: She was lost.
Then she remembered . . . him. She slumped back down, unworried as much as before.
"If it was destined for it to be this way, then it must be for the best." Hinata thought. She pulled out a lavender colour silk handkerchief and wiped her eyes. Hinata slowly picked herself up, and looked around again. Nope, she did not remember anything from here. Hinata pulled out her bag from behind her. She undid the zipper and dug her hand in, feeling for her only real best friend: her compass. When her fingers touched the hard, cold surface, they grabbed hold, and slowly pulled it out of her bag. Hinata held in front of her, admiring the beauty of it.
It was around the size of her whole palm. It was all gold, and around the rims and on the hands were intricate designs that resembled the branches of trees, and little leaves. The face of the compass was mother-of-pearl, which shined all different colors, even in the darkest of night. It was the only gift that Hinata ever received from anyone, and it was from her mother. Her mother had died when Hinata was too young to remember exactly what she looked like, but old enough to still remember, and feel, the pain from that last night in the hospital with her.
Hinata watched as the hand slowly pulled itself over to her right, being pulled by the invisible force at the very farthest point North.
"So if North is that way" Hinata thought as she looked to her right "then, west must be this way" Hinata put her compass back in her bag. She took one last glance around, rubbed her eyes on her sweater one last time before swinging the bag up on her shoulder, and started to walk forwards, towards the direction of west where her house was. Hinata's mind began pulsing as she began to think more and more about . . . him. Hinata broke into a run, leaping over logs and rocks that were in her path.
"Oh, I wish I could stop thinking about him" Hinata thought as she ran faster, but she immediately stopped. A bright flash of light lit up everything around her, the sky, the trees; they all showed their true colors as they lit up. It was quickly followed by a loud crash. Rain started pouring from the sky, drenching her within seconds.
Should she stay, or keep running and try to get home soon? Hinata wasn't afraid to be outside in a thunderstorm, she found them relaxing, but her father hated it when she came in drenched. But, Hinata decided that he was probably going to be furious even if she came back dry. So she stared to run again. The rain blurred her vision, but she didn't care. Every few minutes everything would light up, and a crash was heard. But Hinata didn't so much as flinch as she ran westward.
Finally, after ten minutes of so of running, she started to recognize things. She eyed her favourite, giant, moss covered rock that got extremely warm in the sunlight on a nice day, and she would lay there of hours on end, just staring up at the sky, or sleeping. There was a pain in Hinata's side and it kept nagging her to stop. So she decided to rest at her rock. Hinata was out of breath as she reached it. She thought to stay longer too, to get her energy back, before running another fifteen minutes to get to her house. The sky lit up again, and more thunder followed it. Hinata slumped herself on her rock, the moss was springy and cool to the touch. It was covered in water, which made it that much more relaxing. Hinata was still breathing heavily, but she felt better than before. It was still raining hard, but Hinata didn't really care. After a few minutes, her mind didn't obey her commands to forget about . . . him. Memory after memory, the days that she spent with him. Until finally the last memory, the one she wanted to forget the most.
Flashback
I was walking down the hallway on a Friday afternoon, when the one thing I hoped I would never see in my life: My boyfriend, Gaara, was kissing my best friend, Sakura! I ran up to him saying
"G-G-Gaara! W-w-what are y-you doing!" Sakura looked at me with her eyes. They gave off a loving flame when she looked at Gaara, and when she turned to me, they were filled with sadness, not really knowing what she had just done. Gaara had the same fiery flame in his eyes when he looked at Sakura. But he did not show any compassion for me, like he did before.
"I'm sorry Hinata . . . but things changed, and well . . ." Gaara said as he let go of Sakura and started to walk towards me. He held my shoulder, and looked into my eyes, they were brimming with tears.
"I wanted to come and talk to you, but . . . to put it strait. I am sorry for using you. I wanted to say it to you when we were alone or something." He said coldly, he was not sorry at all.
I just managed to keep the tears down.
"You used me?" I said in a whisper, my voice was cracking.
"Yes." He said, still staring strait into my eyes.
"Why Gaara? I thought you loved me." I said, once again a whisper.
After that, I ran. I raced out of the hall and out of the school. Tears filled and drained themselves, only to fill up again as I ran home.
End of flashback
Hinata opened her eyes. She realized that she had started to cry again.
"I never would have guessed the he would use me .He used me to get to Sakura." Hinata thought at her tears mixed with the water on her face.
Regrettably, Hinata finally got up from her rock.
"I hope I will never love again . . . it is too painful." Hinata thought as the forest around her lit up, and thunder rolled across the clouds, following the lightning.
Hinata broke into a run again, trying to forget about Gaara. After another fifteen minutes of running, she could see her house with was more so a mansion than a house; Hinata slowed her pace to a jog, then to a walk.
"I wonder how severe Father is going to punish me this time; I hope he doesn't get too mad." Hinata winched at the thought as she climbed the stairs that went up to the back patio. Hinata looked up at the sky the rain got in her eyes; she blinked the water out as she pulled the back door open.
I hope you like it so far :) Please click that little purple button that says "Submit Review", I love hearing from you. If you have any idea's on how this should go, please, please, please PM me, thanks.
Yours Truly,
GingerLeaves