Yay!! Hinata! I've always wanted to do something from her point of view!
It's Thanksgiving!!!! We're holding a party :D
Sorry if it's short. PLEASE REVIEW!! dies
November 22
I'm yawning again. Doesn't Father know his speeches are so boring? He sees my look and gets up, all red in the face before he berates me for not trying hard enough.
"Hinata! This is training! You'll never become a shinobi this way!"
A shinobi is a work of art, a self-sacrifice. You need to work hard.
"A shinobi is a work of art!! Hinata, you can't become one without training!"
Oh, well. Close enough. "Gomenasai," I say meekly, dropping my stance and bowing.
"Hinata."
Not this tone again.
"You are only three years of age, but you are very intelligent. Perhaps too intelligent. You need focus, discipline, and practice. Training is – "
Trying to be as uncynical as possible I whisper, "Yes, Father. I'm sorry."
"You need to practice!" he rants. "Practice is crucial! You need to have the power to know, the knowledge of understanding, and the will to protect yourself and others! Do you hear me?"
"Yeees, Father." This time it had a sarcastic spin, but he was already stomping away.
My family sucks… as if I need protection or anything. It's Thanksgiving and all they do is prance around practicing and training.
That was yesterday.
The day before everything changed. Before I became small and shy and lost all confidence. That night was crucial to the hell my life was. It reforms me, remakes me, into a person who I am sick of.
So how was it? Review or message me!
o :D
Lumberrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrry