Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
A/N: A series of drabbles of Genma and Hinata in 500 words or less, usually less.
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When he first saw her, she had been proudly covered in her own blood.
Her small body, hinting at the promise of curves, had been laid out on the wooden makeshift table, like a corpse waiting to be made ready for the funeral. Medic ninjas had been bustling around with wet clothes and waving green chakra enhanced hands around like magicians.
He had been wandering through the room, purposefully taking his time towards the elimination arena, it had been a long day and he didn't want to watch a bunch of snot brats beat each other around. At the sight of this new arrival though, Genma had felt his feet stop and turn so that his eyes could watch her progress.
It wasn't hard to identify her clan – he had always amused himself in thinking that people born of assumed importance had a different body set and not just with the usual markings- but what caught his attention was that a Hyuuga had been beaten.
He was sure of it after moving closer; this child had been beaten, but he along with the medics were surprised when pearlescent eyes snapped open with a small gasp followed by a content lift of the red smeared lips, that was much different than being defeated.
She had lost, but did not lose.
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