"Become My Everything"
Summary: They say people don't change overnight. Though I vow to say, I felt a change within myself, after our eyes met. "My eyes weren't fated for your attraction; they were cursed for your life." SasuHina. AU.
Genre: Romance, Adventure
Rate: T
Disclaimer: Do not own Naruto!
A/N: Ugh, I missed deadline Kiyo. Sorry for the many unanticipated delays. Not much to my liking yet, but it'll work for now. My deepest apologizes but I hope for your enjoyment with this series. Let's hope it will serve as a great starter to a new year.
Chapter 1: Black and White
Once upon a fairytale, there was a young village heiress.
She nestled in the title of her father's name and fell into utter power. Her sole duty remained the protection of the people, the village, and her family name. Having faced fated deceit one too many opportunities, the young protector and her people constructed a horrid wall of defense; physically and emotionally.
And to that, her personal line of defense, to bar herself of affection.
That was still in fact, until one day.
On a not nearly routine patrol, the grounded heiress crossed paths with a rather enthralling stranger. His black hair; neither coarse nor silky, but neat. His puzzling garment; neither smoldered nor printed, but spectacle. Though that was after the fact; for neither compared to his smile, his eyes. His eyes, just black...filled with what seems to be white; HER white.
Silence exchanged; words perceptible through their tacit act. And all that remained colored black and white.
Crouching at the hills of the hidden horizon, a faithful mansion continues it reputable build of guilt trips and secrecy. The shade that enveloped it clung onto tightly, dear to life. The hazed burnt moon shown shyly against the mansion's famed balcony, fearing rejection of its kind light. And surely, it did.
Seeping into the deep slumber of the mansion's lair, a young huntress' presence chained with tenacity, invades the lightly lit shadows. About misty halls and the twisted stairways, an aroma of bloody feud poisoned the overwrought air. Drenched in dark clothing, the huntress stressed the crushing, familiar scent by shielding its sickly congestion.
She begins to make her round around the corner, brushing away cobwebs and dust, allowing death-lurkers to serve as spectators to her every stir. The silent treads she carried resulted in reverberations of the mansion's dispersed old age.
Into a spacious room ingrained with several tears of the night's natural light, the wary huntress scanned the native occupants in the room, her eyes scouting in stern curiosity. Her search short-lived as her eyes lightened at the contracting view of a bookshelf held against the rough walls. In all entireties, the huntress finally exhibited a sign of life, in oddity; it would have seemed she were merely a corpse that wandered the dead halls of a neglected mansion.
Urgency provoked her to jump right into the bookshelf. Signaling a pictured of mere thoughts in a trance; the placement of her guided steps fell in rejected positions in the occurrence of an unlikely company.
"Still living in the past, Hinata?" The voice of a stranger indeed, but obviously the influenced knifing tone mixed with an underlining of chivalry, scratching the surface of his every word.
The newly identified Hyuuga Huntress scrunched her face in defeat as she turned to her unwelcomed guest with guns drawn, ready to fire back. "Your presence here seems to dictate that overstatement, considering I left you in the dust centuries ago, Neji."
His face fell in twinge as it drowned in a series of funeral marches. Masked with a hint of travesty, hands clasped firmly onto the hem of his sleeve. "Even so, you shouldn't patronize yourself over the idea. The past, it's what we've all been chasing. It's all we've ever known." A blanket of despair coated the sympathetic resentment bruising the hung huntress's' frame. And Neji's seemingly parallel, followed by outspoken silence.
Shifting back on track, Hinata brushed away all previously attached emotions, presenting some lingering ones. Steering her attention from the grounds onto Neji again, Hinata kicked a chair and settled right next to Neji. "How was the search? Any leads?"
"As of now, seldom any legit hearings; a majority in which cases are either a drag or a drive into a dead-streak. Though, in hearsay, I've ears to slips of the lips, surrounding a man cloaked in black with red pierced eyes. They're not the conventional vamps. He was also believed to bear the clan's insignia. It's the only pointer we have in spotting the guy. Do ponder to initiate or lie in wait in search of unblemished indicators?" Neji suggested in hopes of initiation rather than lurking in the shadows of the day and fogs of the night, desperate in printed leads.
Discarding any lingering feelings beating within her, Hinata with prided unhesitant answered to what she felt was her final call. "We'll sail through this drafted storm. Let's go Neji." And with that Hinata piloted out the room tailed by an eagerly composed Neji, making his loyal arrangements as always. One mission, separate acts.
A troubled apparition made its way into the walls of a basement hidden within a lair. Impatience guided the stead of the nightly figure with light-outlined clothing. The clicking of heels and toes meeting the grounds indicated further sign of urgency; and annoyance.
"Ready for a hunt?" An adolescent male with nightly pale complexion asked ghostly and almost mockingly to another male with akin of characteristics.
"Irony dictates here. Rather than hunt, shouldn't we be grazing the fields? You know, trolling the pastures, just right above the hills lining with the sun. It'll be fun, Sasuke, brother." Obvious sarcasm bled in every resounding word that fled from his mouth.
"You'd rather sit here and have arrangements for your impending funeral or play giver and assign proper death sentences. Eyes up, Itachi," A rather frustrated Sasuke drown in frustration in his centuries of futile attempts to erase any hint of naivety and immaturity from his time deemed brother, Itachi.
"You know it wouldn't hurt to loosen up your pants once in a while Sasuke. The target will hunt for us eventually. It is her profession at heart you know." As typicality speaks, Itachi's smile objected once again as he sat giddily in his hand-made throne. Unfortunately for him, his moment was long overruled by the sudden utterance of significant findings.
Unable to resist the absent temptation to purge Itachi of his irksome smile, thus liberate him of heavy displeasure, Sasuke set his boat aflame. "Her current reincarnation seems to exhibit no signs of recollection, particularly the incident that summoned hellhole. History fabricated, truth exists now only in us."
The personification of a lighthearted Itachi eradicated itself from all forms of reality in this moment. "Go to hell Sasuke!" he roared, banishing all rigidity in the room. Slamming his palm in agreement to the standing his body, Itachi performed a lavish flash. Face to face with Sasuke, fist gripped tightly onto his collars. "Of all things to joke about you handpicked that?" He scowled out, graced with rage.
"Fuck, Itachi. Am I one to joke?" Sasuke interjected with the building tension. Having proved his case, Itachi release his hold on Sasuke. He was right. Sasuke joking heeds no case. It's like scavenging for 'funny.' Hypothetically speaking, impossible to find, even if it were a needle in a haystack that pricked him in the ass.
Releasing all faded vehemence, Itachi ordered exigency in her finding.
Since their departure at the mansion, Hinata and her much needed watcher, Neji have embarked on separate paths. Though, having achieved countless encounters of failure in her hunt for the black subject, the heedful Huntress settled on a series of latent hotspots.
Her first hit in probable hotspot number one, the forlorn Uchiha Manor.
Thankfully, on this not nearly habitual hunt, the guarded huntress rather parallel stranger; much to her liking, though as her target maybe? Perhaps, fated. The manor much like the mansion previously studied, impenetrable to light, which proved probable, for the smell of fatality complimented the scenery; True blood-suckers indeed. Dispelled of fear and shielded with potent tenacity, she greeted the welcoming gates, only to receive a warm welcome by the manor's host.
"Found you," the vexing rust of a voice from the unexpected company beckoned to her, forcing her to turn in abidance.
The black feel of his hair; neither common nor polished, but orderly. His familiar garment: neither tacky nor affluent, yet quite a sight.
Both existences acknowledge, actions perceived, and thoughts read.
Mirrored actions and instantaneously, blades unsheathed and clashed. Time refused to comply with its natural courses. Surroundings, fearful of the death-drenching wrath dare not argue with the reasoning of the criminal time wizard. White eyes swarmed into black ones as did black mirrored in white ones.
And all in which remains, were just that of Black and White.
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END OF CHAPTER I…