A/N: Hey guys! Finally, my first multi-chapter fic! I would have posted it earlier, but I was afraid that it needed editing and stuff, so I kept procrastinating. Also, thinking of a good title for this fic was a bitch.

Déjà vu is the illusion of having previously experienced something actually being encountered for the first time. I know it's not terribly obvious, but I hope it becomes clear later on. If it doesn't, tell me and I will change the title, because titles are important.

Oh, and don't be annoyed if the story doesn't really get going till really late. There's stuff I need to clarify in her past to explain why she becomes like that. And can you believe I spent two weeks wondering if Deidara should end with 'un' or 'yeah'?

Anyhoo, I don't own anything, because if I did, DeiHina would not be crack. It would be canon.

Chapter One - Over

He had gone. He had really gone.

Hinata was happy for him, of course. He'd get to learn so much and she would be so proud of his achievements – but fact was, he left. He left her in this cold village where no one actually cared if she vanished off the face of the earth, least of all her relatives. Naruto had always been her inspiration and without him, to be honest, she really didn't have anything to work towards.

While she liked to tell herself that she had improved so much because she loved her family and wanted to make them proud of her, the truth was that she had done it for Naruto. To make him notice her, admire her and maybe, just maybe, like her.

She had lived and breathed Naruto.

With him gone… life seemed bleak. No more bundle of yellow energy yelling at her "Hey Hinata-chan!"; no more eye-blinding orange costumes to flash past her; no more determined expressions which spurred her on to make one of her own. It wasn't like she had much more to live for.

Okay, it sounded like a major overstatement.

It wasn't. Seriously.

Her father detested her, the main family loathed her, her sister both, and her cousin simply hated her. No friends to speak of, besides her team members – and they were busy with their own lives at any rate.

Ironically, the branch family idolized her. But in a short while, they too would realize what a pathetic failure she was. Like how all her other 'friends' had.

Case in point: Sakura-chan was a beautifully vivid-coloured, successful kunoichi, with her hair like candy floss and her eyes an indefinable blue-green. Most of all, she had Naruto's admiration and affection. Ino-chan was even more beautiful, with the flaxen hair and limpid blue eyes poets spoke of dreamily, but so rarely seen in real life. Tenten-chan too, with her warm marmalade eyes and cinnamon hair. Heck, even Temari-chan was better looking than her.

Being around friends like hers was giving her a complex. She knew she looked blind with those eyes, and weird with that funny hair color, not black, or blue, but blue-purple. Of course, everyone in the Hyuuga household had those, thanks to inbreeding, but at least most of them could utilize the Byakugan without too much effort.

Hinata was the exception. Her range of sight was pitifully short, and the only thing she was good at was the Sixty-four Palms, and that wasn't any great achievement.

Technically, anyone could use the Gentle Fist, as long as they had exceptional chakra control and a large enough store of chakra, because if they hit randomly without the Byakugan and were lucky enough to score a tenketsu (it wasn't hard, there were a lot of those), their opponent would still be disabled.

The Byakugan just made it a lot faster and simpler.

W-what was she doing! She was dissecting and practically betraying her clan's secret techniques! And stuttering even in her thoughts!

It was official. Hyuuga Hinata was a total loser.

She poked her index fingers together and then scowled at herself. She thought she'd broken that habit. Anyone walking by would wonder at her expression, since such a negative emotion was rarely displayed, by her at least. Thankfully the servants were preparing for lunch.

Heavy, sure footsteps sounded behind her. Without looking back, she knew it was her father – whom she wished wasn't her father. Strange, but who could blame her?

"Hinata, follow me."

Her father's voice commanded and then he walked away, with the air of one who knows he must be obeyed. He didn't even look back to check if she was trailing behind, hands tucked demurely, because it was a given that Hinata would follow rules till her death.

They reached the den of doom – or rather, his office. Her bare feet were soundless against the polished wooden floors, like a cat's.

"Sit."

Sitting down himself, he looked expectantly at her. While looking stern at the same time, of course. Hiashi had mastered the art of looking stern while looking anything at all. Whatever he did was surrounded by an aura of stern-ness. He practically invented being stern, just like how the Hyuugas had practically invented glaring, what with all that going on during clan meetings.

Admit it – it was freaky to have someone with pale pupil-less white eyes glare at you. Although it was true that the Uchihas, the other great Dojutsu clan in Konoha, could glare pretty well too. When their Sharingan was activated, nothing scared people so much as flat, bloody eyes with tadpole-things swirling inside.

Unless, of course, it was dilated white eyes with bulky veins rising up on the temples of one's head. The Byakugan scared people on a daily basis, which was Hyuuga – 1, Uchiha – 0.

Hiashi coughed slightly, noticing that Hinata was daydreaming before his presence. Now, that he would not tolerate. Befriending that Kyuubi container was bad enough, but apparently his rebellious ways had rubbed off on her. He hoped she wasn't forgetting all the heiress training she had received. But maybe that wouldn't be necessary after all…

With a start, he recalled the purpose of this conversation. Steeling himself (because although he might seem like a coldhearted bastard, he didn't like disappointing his daughter who was the spitting image of his late deceased wife) to begin, he steepled his fingers and took a steadying breath.

"I understand you did not make Chuunin during the exams, Hinata."

"Y-yes, father."

She tried not to look horrified at that little stammer escaping her normally well-controlled lips. Well controlled before her father, anyway. She couldn't afford to let him think she was any weaker. Kami knew the situation was bad enough.

"I expect you to retake it this year, of course. And I do not expect a failure again, Hinata."

"Yes, father."

It was calmer this time – cooler. He looked approving of that, but one couldn't ever tell with Hyuugas. You know, when you think about it, their all-seeing eyes didn't exactly see a whole lot.

Getting up, he strode out, but before exiting he turned and frowned at her. Frowns were almost as bad as the glares. Hinata absently wondered if he would get frown lines, and then wondered if she would too, when she was expected to be the clan leader and glare and frown like the rest of them.

"I expect no failures. There will be no exception. You are to make Chuunin. If you fail again, I will have the cursed seal placed on you, and Hanabi will be made the heiress. You will be relocated to the branch family. Do I make myself clear?"

Then again, maybe she wouldn't have to frown and glare.

Without waiting for an answer (because honestly, what could she say?), he swept away, leaving his words behind to effectively and coldly cut her like kunai. The things he didn't say hurt her more, however. What would it take for him to say "I'm proud of you,"?

The things he didn't say.

She couldn't fail. Not this time.

xXxXx

She felt empty. Hollowed out. No feelings left.

She had failed.

Again.

Again.

She hadn't even gotten past the written exam stage. Kiba, Kiba of all people, had elected not to answer question 10. He already knew what was coming! Yet he had purposely raised his hand and told them that he didn't feel like continuing.

Of course, she couldn't blame him, she knew the exams were tiring and mentally stressful, but Kiba! If even he wanted to quit, she might as well chuck her headband now.

The entire team had been disqualified. It was so humiliating – no one this year had decided not to answer, and they were the only ones getting up and walking out, even though everyone knew Kiba had done it.

What was worse that her father hadn't listened to her. Before she got home, someone had told someone else, and that someone else had told her father. She had a suspicion that 'someone' was Neji and 'someone else' was Hanabi. Talk traveled fast in Konoha.

She hadn't known that he had known. She'd quietly explained it to him, and he had quietly listened. Then he had exploded. Really loudly.

That night, she had a new collection of injuries, and then some. He must have been really angry this time, she mused, this is the first time he used kunai.

Her fingers roved the long, angry red slits on her arms and legs. If you looked closely, you could see the barest hint of muscle under her chalky skin. The red looked almost grotesque on her skin tone.

They weren't closing up properly, so she applied some medicinal cream.

Hey, how do you think she was such an expert at making it? Naturally, it comes of having to treat herself so often.

The cuts were very carefully and expertly placed. Nowhere where it would damage her permanently, but in places which hurt enough for tears to overflow. Salt water splashed into her wounds, and she winced. That was a mistake – a wave of nausea enveloped her, her body still unused to the seal on her forehead.

Strange she didn't want to cry, not so much anymore. Not when she thought of the streak of green on her forehead, caging her now and forever.

She never knew how Neji felt about his seal, but she could guess pretty accurately now.

It hurt.

xXxXx

The kimono rustled and she froze, hoping no one had heard her. When no one ran out looking for intruders, she relaxed and continued tiptoeing out.

Her feet traced the moonlight on the well-worn back path, leading to the forest. Silvery, almost liquid-looking light fell on her face, highlighting the pale ivory of her skin. Cicadas chirped and she shivered. The noise had always made her feel lonely, and she had enough of that.

Grass tickled the sides of her feet, encased in her most ornate pair of clogs, as she ghosted silently into the forest with its towering trees that seemed like sentinels. Shadows quietly hid the rivulets of pearly tears streaming from her eyes.

Moments later, she had run her way up with chakra-enhanced feet to the tallest tree in Konoha. She was proud of herself for having done that – a kimono was not easy to run in, and she'd never gone such a long distance. It was ironical how she seemed doomed to fail at everything except her death. Because that was what she was trying to achieve right now.

Still a perfect lady, she dangled on the unsteady branch, ankles crossed and hands intertwined on her lap. The smooth fabric of the kimono reminded her of the troubles she had gone through before going out.

A thin layer of foundation covered her face, with more-heavily applied mascara and dark eyeliner. The intricate hairstyle she'd teased her hair into bore testament of the effort she had put in.

The gold pins in her hair seemed to all be sticking in uncomfortable spots and the dress was starting to annoy her. Caressing tendrils of wind touched her face gently, the only kind of gentleness she had ever known. She would be glad that when she had left (she refused to say 'died') she wouldn't need to bother about dressing up and dolling herself into something she wasn't.

All her father ever asked of her was a mask, a mask hiding what she truly was inside, but she couldn't give even that. She would be relieved to escape this world.

But of course, the foundation was something other than makeup. It was there to hide the ugly curse mark on her forehead – she would not die with it. When they found her body, they would see her as usual, smiling and not marked.

And they would find her body. She had no doubt of that. This time, she wasn't going to give up halfway – she was determined to die.

There. She had said it. All that was left was to do it.

Her mind went over her plan cold-bloodedly. She would throw herself off. If the fall didn't kill her, she would utilize the very handy kunai tucked in her obi. If that didn't kill her, because she couldn't aim properly or something, she would eat the small green pill concealed in a ring encircling her finger. That was a definite end.

But it was a little slow, and she didn't look forward to lingering in pain for hours while it took effect.

It was such a change from her usual personality that she laughed – a high, shrill laugh of surprise at herself. Before she scared away more birds, she steeled her mind and shut her mouth tightly.

Hinata looked down from her perch. The distance was dizzying, but she would welcome, embrace even, the beautiful numbness that came with death. No more pain, no more fear, no more hatred.

She was thinking too much. All she needed to do was let go. While she was loosening her fingers from around the trunk (because fear had made her muscles seize up, and they were curled into claws around the bark), a furry animal, a squirrel, a something, scampered across her hand. The unexpected movement made her relax her hold and –

A raw, horrifying scream dug its way out of her throat. She was falling. Her kimono stayed more or less in place, due to the tight fabric, the unemotional and logical part of her mind observed, whereas the emotional and decidedly not logical part of her mind was whimpering in fear.

The wind sliced past her tear-cooled cheeks and stopped abruptly. All the breath was knocked out of her as she found herself dangling limply by her obi suddenly. She went lifeless in relief (relief at what? Not dying?) but then stiffened. Someone was holding her up. Who had stopped her?

Twisting and writhing, Hinata managed to somehow or other look into the face of her unwanted rescuer.

Her thought processes halted temporarily. He was definitely, by far, the best piece of eye-candy she had ever seen – and who cared if that flitting, random thought was surprisingly out of character? Nothing she was doing now was in character.

The visible half of his face had a sculpted jaw and a high, straight nose. His skin was illuminated from behind, where the one-eyed moon stared at the tableau they made.

One eye, lined black, blinked at her, the iris obscured by the thin lid for a moment.

It was blue – as blue as the rolling, foaming sea, as blue as the wide, free sky on a cloudless day, as blue as misery. In short, the loveliest blue her eyes had ever touched upon. Maybe it was because misery was something she understood to perfection. It was a little like Naruto's blue, but more experienced and more worldly.

Half of a mouth drew upwards into a… not exactly a smile, something like a maniacal grin of amusement.

With a jerk, she started thinking again. He looked so much like Naruto, gone punk and with long hair. Could it be…?

No, it wasn't him. Her savior had nicer features, she thought, almost possessively. The eye shape was all wrong – her savior's were slanted, more mature somehow. Plus, an Iwagakure headband with a savage scratch through it – what?

Missing-nin, she thought, going faint (which didn't make much difference to her already-limp state). Her eyes lit upon his cloak, black as the sky above them with bloody red patches curled into clouds. Akatsuki. Akatsuki. Akatsuki?

Evidently, he hadn't expected her to move anytime soon. They had been half-frozen, with him clutching her obi like his lifeline and with her turned around slightly, eyes wide and staring. So when she shrieked and wriggled, he almost let go of her. He might have thought she was a burning coal from the way he reacted. Encouraged, she fidgeted harder. "What do you think you're doing, yeah?"

For the second time in an hour, she froze into a wax-statue lookalike. And for the second time, it was something about him which stunned her. That voice. It was very masculine and a little raspy. He definitely wasn't Naruto.

Before he could do something stupid, like persuade her to continue living, she tried kicking at him. It was ineffectual, to put it nicely. Drat that long obi!

"No, seriously, what are you doing, yeah?"

That was it; she snapped. Life was irritating her. "I'm trying to commit s-suicide, in case you can't tell!" She stumbled over 'suicide', but went right on trying to kick him. Hopefully, the wooden clogs she was wearing would fly off and hit him in his perfect nose.

"Not on my watch, yeah," he said, smiling that smile again, before yanking on the obi so hard she (in that order) bounced up to his level like a yo-yo, attempted to hit him with her Gentle Fist, missed, fell back down, got the wind knocked out of her by the sudden tightening of her obi around her narrow waist, gasped, did a somersault and back-flip right onto the gigantic clay bird he was sitting on (funny how she only just noticed it. Then again, it didn't seem to strange compared to him), landed in an ungainly heap and then refused to look at him.

First-grade immaturity, she knew, but what else could she do?

Attack him with the kunai?

Actually, that wasn't a half-bad idea. Just that it was plain unintelligent of her to try and disarm an Akatsuki member with a single kunai. Other than that, it was pretty much foolproof. What's the worse that could happen? Her kunai would explode in her face?

She drew it from her obi silently and quickly, before whirling around to chuck it into his face. Another hit at that darned handsome nose of his.

"Whoa, yeah!" He exclaimed and put his hands up. Not the smartest thing to do, especially not when a sharp, pointy kunai was lunging for his features. But something must have crawled from his sleeve (she had an inkling that the huge clay centipede coiling around her weapon was his), because it flew from her hands.

The as-yet unknown Akatsuki member motioned for the centipede to fling itself off the bird and with a short "Katsu!" it exploded. Almost right in her face, incidentally.

Dear Kami, if he manages to save me from depression and suicidal tendencies, I promise never, ever to think stupid things ever again.

Hinata clasped her hands and thought hurriedly. Evidently, the member found her funny as he pried her hands apart and stuck his face into hers. "What are you doing, yeah?"

She looked away from him, only to stare right at his hands…

…which were licking hers energetically?

What were those things, she wondered. Hm. Things that resembled mouths, on his palms, which were (there was no other word for it) tasting her hands – she concluded it was some twisted form of Kekkei Genkai. It was strange how it didn't faze her. But she'd pretty much gotten used to the weird the moment she set eyes on him. It wasn't that hard, since she didn't even know anything about him and was discovering weirder and weirder things.

Shall we examine the case? Point one: He looked eerily like Naruto. Point two: He was a hyperactive missing-nin. Point three: An Akatsuki just saved her life. Point four: Well, if she kept this up, there would be too many to name.

But anyway, since she had always been weird herself, it was like the pot calling the kettle black to think he was weird.

Although, okay, true, there was an entire clan of Byakugan users who looked just as weird as her but she'd never seen anyone else with mouths on their palms. Both of them were still weird.

Weird, weird, weird. So maybe she had a fixation. Who cared?

He noticed her staring at his hands and pulled them behind his back, staring at her defiantly, daring her to comment on them. Yes, okay, so he was sensitive about them. She didn't have to blatantly stare like she'd never seen them before (which she never had)! They made for a really easy way to mold clay and imbibe them with chakra, but people always viewed him as a freak after finding out.

He would have liked to keep it hidden for a bit longer. Talk about starting off on the wrong foot – he would have liked it if the first impression the Hyuuga had of him was dashing, heroic, hot rescuer and not freakazoid with mouths on his hands which like to lick her damn them.

The guy pulled them further behind his back and Hinata's eyes softened at his defensive movement. She didn't really find it that weird (well, not that much at any rate) and she thought it was a pity for him to be embarrassed/ashamed of things that were so obviously beyond his control.

The stupid, independent part of him scowled at her. He didn't want her pity! He wanted her – ah, but that would be telling.

Making a face to himself, he decided that he didn't like forgetting to wear gloves. And then he saw her looking at him making a face, and he almost (almost) blushed.

Before either of them screwed things up further, he decided they'd better get back to the Akatsuki base. And hopefully to some gloves. And a manual where he could find out how to control the stupid things, because right now his amount of control was hovering somewhere in between NIL and less than Naruto had sense. Effectively, NIL.

With a big flap of its clay wings, the bird soared above the tree and Konoha and the great, shining river running through Konoha. Emphasis on the great, shining river. Hinata looked at it twisting about and idly wondered what it was like.

And then Hinata got another one of her ideas. Seriously, she'd been having way too many of those.

To be continued.

A/N: I hope Deidara wasn't too OOC, I don't think I'm very good at writing him. I keep digressing! And Hinata – I hope she doesn't sound like Sakura. Much.

R&R please! And if you have any questions at all, PM or review, thanks! I love clearing things up (:

If you're a fan of DeiHina (which I assume you are since you're reading this), go check out TheWindAlchemist or Digital Skitty. They rock, and they are my inspiration for DeiHina stories.