PROLOGUE:

The Hokage looked sadly down at the four children gathered so naively in front of his desk. Three were pale boys, with the same dark brown hair and silver, mesmerizing eyes as their father. They were tackling one another and laughing good-naturedly as they waited to be spoken to, unable to detect or be affected by the sad ambiance that filled the room. The fourth child was a girl. She stood away from the group, staring at the floor in utter silence. Long golden locks cascaded from her head and tapered off at around the small of her back, drowning out the beauty of her starry Hyuuga eyes with their own. Kami knows that the eye and hair colors didn't match in the slightest, but she was still strikingly pretty besides the fact. It would've been a long shot to say that she and the boys were related, however, and he doubted that somebody would bet money on it.

The Hokage was almost terrified of the fact that she was seeing the difference in herself more and more every day. The fact that she didn't fit in with her own family, for one. He noticed with slight worry that she was edging away from her siblings, still looking at the floor. The message coming from their little group was clear: We don't want you here. Children, he knew, could sometimes become more judgmental than their parents. They needed no reason to hurt or exclude someone, just a little outside motivation. Over the past few weeks, the reports had been coming in a steady flow from the Academy teachers. The girl had perfect scores, perfect behavior, perfect understanding, but no friends. Others would never let her take part in their games or laugh at their jokes, or even come near them. Rumors were created, then spread, and no one dared to like "the Hyuuga girl."

Pretty soon she would begin to question herself, why she even existed. The Hokage knew this feeling, and in looking down at the quiet little child, he saw his old self, the one nobody would ever befriend. The pain in those averted eyes was intense. She didn't understand the hatred directed toward her from all sides, and only felt what the people around her made her feel. At an early age of seven, she still didn't understand the meaning of hatred, but it was only a matter of time.

When she began to hate, she would also begin to wonder, and search for answers. It was imperative to the safety of Konoha that she did not find out who her real mother was on her own. The truth could be interpreted in any way, and the answers she'd find would only be the wrong ones. Traitor. Akatsuki. NineChild. Whatever she would find out from the village would be opinionated and biased, and only pain would spark and erupt into flames in her mind from it. She could be dangerous, after all. What her mother had may have been passed down to her daughter through the blood in their veins.

Laughter from the three boys interrupted his thoughts. "Hey, Kaori, what'd the Hokage call us in here for? Did you use the Eight Trigrams on some innocent civilian again?" The girl gave no verbal reaction, but her hands balled into fists, and she clenched her teeth together, still looking at the carpet.But the Hokage cleared his throat. While musing about life of this poor child, he'd forgotten why he had summoned the four to his office.

He hadn't realized it until now, but it was blissful to forget it. As the thought of doing what he now had to do sank in, a guilty weight settled once more on his chest, making it harder to breath. He knew he had to tell the four of them. They had every right to know what had happened. He just didn't know how to break it to them so they'd understand. The Hokage found it especially hard to deal with the young children, their parents victims of the cruel shinobi world. The hurt that filled their eyes, the shock that covered their faces, it was almost too much to bear. But his duty as Hokage forced him to continue.

He now looked down at them once again, preparing to speak, his mind frantically searching for a way to make the truth less painful. The little girl was the only one who noticed that something was wrong at all. She was looked back and forth from the Hokage to her brothers with a nervous expression on her face. She catches on, he thought. Just like her senseis say she does. The mistrustful gaze landed on his tall form behind the desk once again, and without meaning to do it, he shivered. Her mother filled her face in every aspect, from the high cheekbones and slender almond eyes to her thin lips and pointed chin. The gold that was woven into her hair only strengthened the impression that he was looking into the woman's dead face. Suddenly the memory bloomed in front of his eyes, escaping the back of his mind where he'd imprisoned the horrific image.

It had been bloody. Red streaked from the corner of her mouth and pooled by her cheek, mixing with the brown of the soil underneath it. Her eyes stared longingly, desperately into the distance, the life and energy, and even the everpresent pain gone from them. The beautiful hair, characteristic only of her, now lay tangled and matted around her face, hiding her mangled features. Blood still trickled slowly from claw marks on her arms and legs, although hours had passed already. Her hands were clenched into tight fists, never to open again.

How had it happened to her?

The numb expression on his friend's face, with the rays of the rising sun just barely illuminating the forest around them, was haunting. He had fallen to his knees, unmoving, eyes wide in shock. Shock and pain. The shining silver orbs, sometimes laughing, sometimes serious, were reduced to dry wells of pain. They shed no tears, no emotion. Days passed, then weeks, but the horror-stricken look never left his eyes. It seemed as though he'd be lost forever, not feeling, not caring about the world. The world not caring about him. Before the young Hokage's eyes, he deteriorated and shrank and became nothing, wanted to be nothing, wanted everything to go away.

He closed his eyes and tried to force the memory back down again, as it threatened to overwhelm him. One of his closest friends, one of the people he could trust with anything, rely on the most, had been close to lifeless. It had hurt him to see Neji that way. He'd always known how to get on his nerves and drive him near crazy through his quiet, serious, common sense way of life, and to see this unresponsive shell of his old self had hurt the Hokage badly. But out of the depths of his misery, there had come a child. She had tossed him a rope and dragged him out of that deep well, even a little forcefully, until he regained himself.

The Hokage owed his friendship with a close comrade to the sorrowful little girl that stood in front of him. He shivered again, breaking the hold of the bad memory.

The girl had noticed his shiver as their eyes made contact, and she dropped them quickly to the floor again. She could sense the discomfort coming off of him in waves. Even the Hokage hated her. He probably wanted her dead, just like the rest of the world. It hurt, but she carried this invisible burden one her shoulders, with head held high. She wanted with all her heart to shrug it off, dismissing it as stupid that people hated her for a reason even she didn't comprehend.

But when she tried, they were there again, reminding her that it was her job to be hated, misunderstood. She would even accept it, if only she knew why. What was the reason behind the suffering? Did the villagers find it fun to torture her and her alone, or was there really some ulterior motive guiding their actions? Her father was kind to her, getting her the toys she wanted and reading to her at night and sitting with her until she fell asleep. She trusted him and loved him, but whenever she had come home crying, asking him why things had to be the way they were, he only shushed her and stroked her bright wavy locks until she was silent again.

Her mother was gentle and always smiled that tired smile of hers, telling her that things would be alright. But how could things be alright if even her brothers, whom she lived with, were turned against her existence? The questions only flowed and multiplied, never answered, and she wanted those answers badly. She wanted to know what had made her life hell, and how she could get out of it.

Her palms began to bleed as she dug her nails into them fiercely, savoring the pain and wishing that it was all there was to it, just a cut that would heal and nothing more.

By then, the Hokage had made up his mind. He stood and stepped around his hard oakwood desk, sitting down on the floor in front of the children. Slightly confused, they followed his lead and folded their legs to make room for a circle. The girl sat back a little ways from the rest of them, suddenly wary of this change of positions. She glanced up at the Hokage questioningly (quickly, so he couldn't see it), but all she saw was an emotionless mask that hid everything from the world.

"I'm going to tell all of you about something," he began. "Something you all have the right to know. Something the history books of Konoha will never teach you."

"Is it about Kaori pummeling people in the market place?" one of the boys commented, bringing loud sniggers from the grinning mouths of the other two.

"No, your sister has no part in this story. It all started about twenty years back-"

"This is starting to sound awesome," interrupted another, the youngest of the trio. The others shushed him and waited for the Hokage to continue. The girl said nothing, glad the attention was not focused on her shoulders for once. But this whole idea was making her nervous, very nervous indeed. For, the more she thought about it, the more her suspicions seemed true. A Kage wasn't supposed to tell children stories in the middle of a war, he or she should be planning and fighting for a win. Something had to be wrong, very wrong, for him to waste his time on people like her.

But try as she might resist the urge to listen, the voice of the Hokage was tugging at her ears for attention. It was strong and calming, a voice worth listening to.

And when she began to listen, she was pulled into the story faster than you could say "shinobi," forgetting the world around her.