Strange: odd; queer; alienated or estranged.

Loner: a person who is alone; one who avoids the company of other people.

Wretched: pitiful; worthless; of a poor character.

Failure: to prove unsuccessful; an insufficiency; the non-performance of something due, required, or expected.

I've come to associate myself with these words over the years. They were used so many times behind my back, when no one thought I could hear. Usually it was a group of father's business partners at one of his fancy parties, or my classmates as they passed me on the way to their lockers. My father never voiced it, but whenever he happened to fix that steely gaze on me I could feel the disappointment rolling from him in waves. Hanabi, my younger sister, felt the same way; although she often had little trouble voicing her opinion of me openly for the world to hear. Most would call her horrifically rude, but she isn't. She's just blunt. She doesn't lie, either.

So whenever Hanabi calls me 'foolish' or 'pitiful' or 'shameful', I believe her.

My father has other reasons for being disappointed in me, apart from my obvious failure as being a good heir to the Hyuuga family. My mother, you see, died when I was eight. Hanabi was only four at the time, so she doesn't remember anything about her. My memory is also very vague. Sometimes I'll be doing something—stroking a blanket, or cooking something tasty for lunch—and I'll get these weird flashes; memories of her doing the same thing, with the same kind smile she always wore, or with that soft laugh that made you want to laugh along with her. I do remember that she was one of the nicest, most loveable people that ever lived. She was smart, too; and opinionated. She never failed to hold her own in an argument against my father, but she did it in such a sweet, kindly way that she always won. My father loved her more than the world.

I look just like her. We have the same indigo coloured hair, and the same soft facial features that differ from father's and Hanabi's sharper, more articulate cheeks and noses. My eyes—pale lavender, like father's—are wider and also less sharp; framed by my mother's long lashes.

Just looking at me is painful for him, but what really takes the cake is the fact that I'm nothing like her. I'm not smart, or opinionated, or strong-willed. People have occasionally commented that I'm a 'sweet girl', but I usually just come across as weird and shy. I'm not my mother, no matter how much I look like her. That's what really upsets him.

I was mulling things over as I pulled on the school uniform. Most people hated Konoha High's uniform, with its short blue skirt and long-sleeved white blouse with the logo (the simple outline of a leaf) on the shoulder and mandatory blue neckerchief. I actually liked it. It wasn't so much the actual clothing I liked, but the fact that we all wore the same thing—I was the same as everyone else. I know it sounds strange, but for someone like me who has always struggled to fit in its nice to know that for once I wasn't different.

As I was storing last night's homework into my bag a sleek silver car pulled up outside and the driver tooted the horn. One glance out the window told me it was Neji, my cousin, coming to pick me up for another day at school. I hastily shoved the rest of my books into my bag and ran downstairs.

"Good morning, Hinata." Neji greeted politely, a warm smile on his face. Neji looked just like my father, with silky chocolate hair and a sharp jaw, along with the trademark lavender eyes of the Hyuuga. He could also give the same ice cold look my father gave if he disliked something. He never gave me that look, though. Neji was always so kind to me, but to this day I still don't understand why.

I'm responsible for messing up his life, after all.

"Morning, Neji." I replied as I slipped into the passenger seat. Neji's car had been a present from my father for his seventeenth birthday a couple of months ago. Father didn't have any qualms with Neji, as the ridiculously expensive car clearly revealed. Yet again, Neji was a genius; a true prodigy who everyone believed should have received the title of heir to Hyuuga Industries. Everyone, including my father.

That's why Neji and I are engaged. As soon as I turn nineteen, we will be married and Neji will take his rightful place as the head of Hyuuga Industries. That is my father's way of setting things right.

And perhaps it would have worked, if Neji and I weren't already in love with other people.

"Did you finish your essay, Hinata?" Neji began in that polite way he always uses. Most people would be frustrated by his cool, borderline frosty tone; but that's just the way Neji is. It's just another thing that makes him so much better suited to be the Hyuuga heir.

"Yeah, it's all done." I answered softly, patting my bag where the 3,000-word essay was stored. I had spent most of the night on the computer, carefully putting word after word together before deleting everything and starting once more from scratch. I was never good at using words; either out loud or on paper. But finally, after many hours of trying to piece together something half decent, I had succeeded.

"Good. I am sure your father will be very pleased."

"Thanks, Neji."

Most of the trip to school was spent in relative silence, with the occasional question and comment from Neji. I didn't try to ask anything or keep the conversation flowing. I never knew what to say or when to say it, or if it was even worth saying. Words had a way of escaping my grasp. Neji understood that.

"Neji! Hinata!" Tenten, a girl with brown hair and cinnamon eyes, greeted us at the car park. She was wearing her hair in the twin buns she always sported, with her backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Hi, Tenten." I greeted with a shy smile. Neji didn't say anything. Instead he got out of the car and took the girl's hand, kissing her lightly on the cheek. Tenten blushed, her eyes full of love and adoration for the man before her.

This was the reason I was ruining Neji's life. Because of me, he only had three short years to be with the girl he loved. After that, Tenten would have to become something in the background; a shadow of the past that could never surface lest a sleazy businessman found out he loved someone other than his wife. I knew that he would try; that no matter what he would attempt to be the perfect husband, for the sake of Hyuuga industries. I also knew that despite his best efforts, after he left Tenten he would never be truly happy.

They both started walking off I hurried to catch up, sling my bag over my shoulder as I went. By now Neji and Tenten were chatting like there was no tomorrow—as though I wasn't there at all.

It happened quite often these days. As soon as they were together, everyone else disappeared, including me. They didn't mean to do it and I didn't really mind, but it did make me realise just how alone I truly was. I was an outsider; intruding on their happy little world. And what did they do for me? They were friendly. Neji drove me to school. Tenten talked to me during lunch. It would have been better if I didn't exist.

I mumbled a goodbye and headed to my classroom, walking down the corridors with my head down and by shoulders slumped. I hated walking down that corridor, especially since I had to do it alone. It made me feel so vulnerable, so afraid…

"There they are!"

"Where?"

"Over there!"

I still had my head down, carefully set on my toes, when I felt several of my fellow female students knocked me aside. I fell to the ground with a small 'oof', wincing when a couple more of the girls stepped on me in their haste to reach the people behind her.

"Watch it, freak!" one of the nastier ones shouted over her shoulder. Her comment suddenly made me feel very small. I could feel their eyes on me, could hear their laughter, could hear them remarking on how dumb I looked right then and there in the middle of the corridor…

"Are you okay?"

I looked up, blinking. There was no laughter, nor were there any harsh comments. Only eyes, so many eyes, staring at me; me and the hand extended toward me.

Before me stood the pinnacle of my existence; the light of each day and the pillar of hope I clung to each night before I went to sleep. His name was Naruto Uzumaki, and he came in the form of a smart, confident, beautiful boy; with spiky blonde hair and the most extraordinary ocean blue eyes, the kind you could get lost in if you weren't careful. His skin was tanned and the outstretched hand looked even darker compared to my own pale colouring.

Breathe Hinata, breathe, I kept telling myself, over and over again in a silent mantra. Do not faint. You will not faint. You cannot faint. Breathe.

He was still looking at me expectantly, his eyes sparkling and perfect in his painfully handsome face. I tried to open my mouth and say something, but the words caught in my throat and I ended up choking on them like a cat on a hairball. I swallowed once, twice, and tried again.

"Y-y-yes, t-thank-y-you…"

Great. Here was my chance to appear as something more than a weird freak and I had messed it up by st-st-stuttering. Perfect. I inwardly chastised myself as my entire face heated and went a horrible shade of red.

"Here, let me help you up." Naruto went on, holding his hand out a little further. I blushed even more—if that was even possible—and timidly reached out with my own hand. With one easy movement he lifted me to my feet and I was standing, surrounded by people staring

"Sorry about that. Some people just get a bit excited, you know?" Naruto grinned and lowered his voice to a whisper. "And some girls are just plain rude and uncaring, although I don't think I should tell them that."

"T-t-thank you…" I mumbled. I didn't know what else to say.

Luckily I was saved from having to say anything more by another voice, female this time, coming from the pink-haired, emerald-eyed teen with whom I shared my History class.

"Naruto!" she snapped, hands on her hips and a scowl on her face, "What do you think you're doing?! I leave you for a second and I come back to find you flirting! Leave the poor girl alone!"

"But Sakura…" Naruto whined, "I wasn't flirting, honest! You're the only one I'd ever flirt with!"

My heart sank. Sakura's appearance had thrust me back into reality with painful force which I knew was bound to leave a bruise on my belittled heart. For just a moment I had forgotten about her completely; her and Naruto's affection for her.

Within a moment my little ball of sunshine was gone, bouncing away after Sakura as he hurried to reassure her of his undying love. With him went the pushy girls and the attention of everyone around me. My Hikage was gone and now the shock was settling in; making my heart beat too fast for my lungs. I could vaguely feel the colour drain from my face underneath the roar of blood in my ears—blood that didn't seem to quite make it to my brain.

Before I knew it, the dizziness overcame me and the darkness settled in. I fainted.

-

-

Konoha High wasn't like other schools—in fact, it couldn't be more different. It made all of those snobby colleges for the rich look like diminutive schools for the unfortunate. Konoha High's student population was strictly made of the children of the big business tycoons. To belong there, your parents had to work in gigantic buildings and suave offices, with money practically oozing out of their pores. Teens from all over the world came to Japan for the sole purpose of being educated in such a wondrous place and it wasn't unusual to see people who spoke little to no Japanese at all, walking the halls with their translators following behind them. Hyuuga Industries was one of the biggest businesses in the world, so of course Neji and I were accepted without a single qualm or disagreement.

Fitting in amongst the student body was another story. Amongst them, you had to be three things to be popular—rich, beautiful and confident. Money was no problem, of course. It was the other things, the beauty and the confidence, that I lacked. I could barely mumble my way through a complete sentence, let alone hold a decent conversation and my body lacked the usual Hyuuga beauty, which both Neji and Hanabi had been successful in receiving. And so I became the 'weird Hyuuga girl' who sat at the back of the classrooms with her sketch pad and drawing utensils, blocking out the world and replacing it with one of her own.

That was me; Hinata Hyuuga.

Strange.

Loner.

Wretched.

Failure.

Naruto Uzumaki was the exact opposite. Whereas I was a loner who shrunk away from the spotlight whenever possible, Naruto was the kind of person who seemed to shine amongst his fellow peers. He could joke and be serious to equal lengths; could talk business and sport with the same infectious enthusiasm. He was truly beautiful, yet still he was kind to those beneath him; including herself. He had them all—money, beauty and confidence.

His gleaming looks, personality and confidence earned him the nickname Hikage, or 'Sunshine'. It fit him perfectly. No one actually called him Hikage to his face—except for Sakura when she made the occasional jibe at the cheerful blonde—it was just a title used to effectively show how much higher he was in the Konoha High food chain.

I didn't even have a place on the food chain; I was that invisible to everyone. If I did, it would probably be under the title of 'weird purple-eyed freak', right at the very bottom.

"You're awake." The school nurse commented from her place in the doorway. I jumped—I'd been so lost in my thoughts that I hadn't seen or heard her approach. "Honestly Hinata-sama, I thought we'd gotten rid of these fainting spells of yours."

"Yeah," I mumbled, "So did I."

Ever since I was little, fainting had been a regular occurrence. For some reason if I was in a situation I was uncomfortable in, the ability to breathe would just kind of… leave. Like sand slipping through fingers, the more I tried to grasp at the strands of remaining function in my lungs the more they seemed to slide away until my consciousness left. My father had taken me to several doctors and psychologists, but they had no treatment to give. My fainting spells were just another imperfection that would have to be put up with.

Over the past six months, I had truly thought the problem had gone. I hadn't passed out once. Now, however, my heart sunk—it was as though I had been relieved of a heavy weight that had been hanging over my shoulders, only to have it thrown at me with a force that sent me careening backwards into my worst childhood days.

"The bell just rang for lunch, Hinata-sama," the nurse continued, "You're free to go or stay; whichever you please."

I managed a smile, even in my depressed state, and nodded. "I'd best be going. Thank you for looking after me."

"My pleasure, Hinata-sama. Take care of yourself."

I left the nurse's office with my bag in tow—I had fainted before making it to my locker—but instead of heading to the cafeteria where I usually ate with my friends, I headed to the library.

Despite the library's extensive collection of books, few chose to explore its many stories and instead preferred to spend their lunches in the rowdy cafeteria. But peace and quiet was exactly what I needed, and I couldn't help but sigh in relief when I reached my usual spot on the floor, surrounded by shelves filled with romance volumes right at the back of the library. From my bag I extracted my beloved sketch pad and a sharp lead pencil, sighing once more at the familiar feel of my pad's smooth cover.

Drawing was my anchor. When all else failed, my sketch pad would always remain, with its welcoming pages waiting for me to fill them with my drawings. Right now with all the emotions pressing on my shoulders, there was nothing I needed more than to get lost in the world of paper and pencil.

I started off lightly—first a bird in flight, then a quick sketch of my bag, followed by a scarf being tossed in the wind. But my fingers were itching to pull out the emotions raging in my heart; fighting to let them surface once and for all. So I began sketching my father; picturing the sharpness of his cheekbones and the downward turn of his lips. My hands were a little shaky as I drew the cold glare he always wore when he looked at me, but I kept going.

And as I sketched, I wished. I wished that he would look at me, just once, with the kindness he showed Hanabi and Neji. I wished that it was pride that shone in those lavender eyes instead of disapproval. I wished I could be the daughter he wanted, rather than the failure I had turned out to be.

The bell rang before I could finish the drawing. It made me jump—I'd been so absorbed in my art that I hadn't even noticed the time. I sighed and hastily packed my things away, letting the weight fall back onto my shoulders the way it always did when reality settled in.

-

-

I had Chemistry after lunch.

I hated Chemistry. I hated the experiments, where the slightest mistake could render your assignment ruined beyond compare. I hated all the different names and formulas you had to memorise; the ones I could never remember. I especially hated the teacher, Deidara-sensei.

"There is nothing as beautiful as Chemistry," he would proclaim each lesson, "It is the art of all arts—the construction and destruction of everything! It is not art if it doesn't go off with a bang!"

This was usually followed by a list of notable explosions Deidara-sensei was especially fond of—the 1988 PEPCON disaster, the 1944 Port Chicago disaster, the 1944 Bombay explosion, etc. I never listened. All I could think about was how wrong he was; about art. Art was beautiful. It was sleek and graceful, yet at the same time it could be powerful and aggressive. Art shone with emotion. Chemistry didn't shine at all.

"This project will take up 25% of your grade," he was saying, "I'll assign you partners… yeah, and you'll all be in girl/boy groups, yeah."

All around me I could hear girls whispering excitedly, all of them sitting up a little straighter in their chairs. My heart sunk. Girl/boy partners? I could barely converse with someone from my own gender. How was I supposed to even look my partner in the eye?

I could see why the girls were excited, of course. After all, Tsukikage was in this class. Which girl wouldn't kill to have such a handsome, popular lab partner?

Me; that's who.

Deidara-sensei's voice droned on, listing off partners with the occasional clearing of the throat and muttered 'yeah'. I could hear sighs of disappointment coming from all the girls as, one by one, they realised that their partner wasn't Tsukikage. I looked around the room at the remaining unpaired students. My only friend in this class was Ino Yamanaka, and she had been paired with a short American boy who, as far as I could tell, could speak next to no Japanese at all. She and I locked eyes for a moment and she pulled a face. I winced in sympathy.

"…Hinata Hyuuga…" Deidara-sensei read out and I turned to face him once more; tense as I awaited my partner to be announced.

"And Sasuke Uchiha."

Great. Of all the people in the room, I had to get paired up with Tsukikage.