She Knew Better
She had wanted to keep the baby. She wanted to be the one the child would ran to, the one the child cried for but…that would be impossible—she knew better. She was an heiress to the most powerful bloodline in her village—first born. She couldn't let her family down, not again. It was a mistake she told herself, hoping that by some miracle she'd believe it, but she never did.
"A baby?"
She was going to have a baby? And not the child of a prestigious father—no, just a mistake, a blonde haired mistake. What would her father think when he saw the lemon-yellow tufts of hair and cloudy blue eyes, what then? She wouldn't let it get that far—she'd give up her birth right before she tolerated her father's prejudice.
She'd have to tell the father too. He'd want to know that he was soon to be the father of an inferior child. It was such a mess! But, the young woman never had a chance to confess. The love of her life was ripped away by the hands of war, and now she was the mother of a fatherless child.
How could fate twist such a wonderful thing into something so…so…disgusting?
She hadn't any other choice. She'd have to hide her secret better, she'd have to erase any trace of her lapse in judgment…she'd have to leave for a time. So, the young Hyuuga did what she thought was best: She accompanied her cousin on a trip far from the village—they favored the branch-family Hyuuga and wouldn't ask if she went along—and there she remained for the duration of the showing months; grieving the losses she was to carry with her eternally.
The day came and a tiny little girl, christened with his smile, arrived in her arms. Oh, how she wanted to keep her close but…the heiress knew better. With one final kiss of tears, she sent the baby away. "I love you…" She cried, forgetting all who'd hear.
The years passed slowly, and the heiress, now the head of the powerful family, never told of the lover she'd lost or the baby she held. She would cry silently for the loves that had stolen a piece of her heart and, sometimes, when her memories became too vivid to sleep, she'd whisper the name she'd given the child even though…she knew better.