The shortness is entirely intentional. You heard me, it's supposed to be super-short, and if you complain I shall never speak to you again. Never-ever-ever. I own nothing.
Her silhouette falls on the sun-washed grass, the soft breeze whispering through her hair. Hinata smells the sweet essence of summer, and the smile starts to grow on her face, like some slow-blooming sunflower.
So long has she lingered on in the dark, trapped there by her own fear, by the disdain of all those who only see a shy little violet and tell her she will never thrive. Those who expected her to break and collapse never let up.
Hinata defied them all.
She never broke.
She never collapsed.
She never gave up.
She never withered away in the dark, like some fragile flower denied water and sunlight. Hinata is stronger than that. She always has been.
A single taste of the sun was enough to put a fire in her blood and keep her breathing all these years. Now, there's nothing that can keep Hinata away from the soft kiss of warmth.
She'll bloom towards the sun, until everyone sees that her roots are indestructible.