A/N: Hi! Read and review, 'kay?

Chapter 1.

Hyuga Hinata became a therapist for 3 reasons.

One was the fact that she liked to help others.

Second was the fact that she herself needed someone to talk to when she was young, but didn't have anyone, and therefore, she wanted to make sure no one else went through what she did.

And third was the fact that she needed something to fill the gap in her heart.

Because whether or not she showed it, whether or not she still dreamt of it, she knew for sure she would never be the same. He had breezed in, as pathetic as she was, and she loved him, loved him still, loved him though she knew he wouldn't love her, though she knew she would be left behind. And she was right. She was left behind, still crawling on that dusty path, stained with the footprints of friends long gone. She groped in blindness, in pitch black, still hoping to see the light, though she knew it was futile.

Because of him. She didn't blame, of course, oh no. But still… He had come in, and slowly, slowly carved a hole in her heart, chipping a bit more of her away every time he had talked to his crush, every time he accidentally ignored her, or forgot her name. And that hole, though years had passed, was still there, fresh as if it had only appeared yesterday. Her heart still thudded, her cheeks flushed at the faintest mention of his name.

She was caught in the past, in memories already gone, trapped in the threads of time, spun so thick she could hardly breathe. She couldn't move on, because how could she find her way in the utter black of the universe, spinning, spinning, moving, while she was entrapped within the clock itself, frozen at her childhood?

She didn't enjoy her job really. Not that much. It reminded her more of her past. Wicked, sneering faces peering at the Hyuga heiress from the shadows.

Darling Hinata.

Sweet Hinata.

Oh, what a lovely child.

Always ready to help.

Can you do this?

This?

Oh, this too, please?

But she knew better now. She could see past the masks of ice, zeroed in on the face within. Cruel, greedy, using her because sweet, darling Hinata wouldn't refuse, because no one else would do things like she would, so obediently, no question.

She knew now, the world was rotten, filled with scum and filth, staining the young hearts of children with their black, sooty, hands, squeezing the life out, till they were nothing but shells.

She should know. She was one of them.

Ah, but she already knew something which made her last purpose useless.

You see, once a jewel is broken, you can never heal it. Once again, again, it'll fall.

-o-o-o-

My day began as usual. The normal heartache when I woke, the normal immediate waking due to years of practice, having had to make breakfast each day, the usual sadness flushing throughout my body. You see, it was my first. I was shy. I was quiet. But I did it. With my miniscule courage, I confessed, only to be turned down harsh, really harshly.

I clicked my pen onto my desk, again and again, the dark wood beneath steady. I swivelled around in my chair, a full 180, to stare out the long panels of window, overlooking the city, the faint outlines of the mountains just visible against the bright morning sun, the city just coming to life, with a couple of noises now and then, here and there. The city wasn't big, nor grey. It was the opposite; small and colourful. Walking along, you could be in India then sailing across seas, floating in outer space then in a garden of flowers. First dusk, then dawn, sunrise, then nightfall. It was magic.

I swivelled back around leaning onto my desk and watching the dark door opposite, across the two couches that stood sandwiched in the middle, facing each other, dark red and plump. I didn't have a clock. I didn't like clocks. I could tell, about. Dinner, lunch, morning, the shade of rosy pink and hazy yellow which says 'wake up', or I asked others if the therapy session was up yet.

My life, so far, was fine, as far as I was concerned.

"Tick, tock, goes, the clock…" I muttered under my breath to myself.

I rolled my eyes, blinked, then clicked my pen again.

In a way, it was lucky he had come into my life. I didn't stutter anymore. I didn't move and flail my limbs, nor pressed my fingers together when talking. I could insult people, because I knew it was the truth, knew they were rotten like everyone else.

Finally, unable to wait any longer, I stood and stretched, then proceeded to fluff and worry over my clipboard and information sheet. I scanned it once more.

"Sabaku no Gaara." I read aloud to myself.

"Age- 22. Hm, a bit older than me. Height… Weight… Normal, I suppose… Uh… 'Tends to scare people and resorts to violence a lot. Didn't bully, however. Appears to help bully victims but scares both.' Hm, interesting…"

"I don't think so."

I jumped. An average, slightly skinny man stood opposite me, fitted with a brooding look and natural frown, dark red hair and sea-green, aqua eyes, bright one moment, stormy the next.

"Ah… Sabaku-san, is it? Nice to meet you. I am Hyuga Hinata, your therapist."

"I don't need you. My brother and sister forced me to." He growled, eyes flashing.

I stayed calm. "Well, you're here now, so why not get going?"

He narrowed his eyes. "I hate people like you."

I blinked, my eyes widening in shock. That was new. Not many had guts to say that.

"Really?" I hate you too then, Sabaku-san. "Well, I don't hate you." No, don't listen. I really hate you.

He smirked. "Liar."

I ground my teeth. Unfortunately, it was harder to keep my cool since I was rejected.

"Listen, Sabaku-san." I hissed. "You'll-" I coughed, then changed my tone to sickly sweet, draped in honey. "You need to pay respect, because we're strangers, see?" I laughed, a high-pitched, nasally laugh, unlike my real one.

"Quit the act. You were going to strangle me. Why don't you stop pretending? It's no fun this way."

I bit my tongue till it numbed.

"Listen, Sabaku-san." I growled, ditching the friends act. "I'm not here to play, and neither. You're paying money now, so why don't you make it worthwhile? And god, some people actually need this, so don't make fun of it."

His lips curved up into a vicious grin.

"So... Why not just let me go now? I can trash your office, you know."

I raised my brow. "What do you want me to say? Tell you to be a good boy. Do what you want. That won't change the fact that I will still talk to you."

His eyes darkened, his face cast into shadow.

"Well… Maybe I'll stay if you can guess? Why do I save little victims from the bid, bad wolf?"

"Because," I started with a snap, "You aren't actually all that mean, are you?"

He flushed pink, surprised. "Of course not! Don't joke around!"

"And," I continued unmercifully, "You actually don't want to see people hurt, because you were hurt once too, weren't you, Subaku-san?"

His face reddened. "Don't make me out to be a sissy, Hyuga-san." He said threateningly.

"Well? You have to stay."

He glance at his wrist, then smirked.

"Sorry, Hyuga- san. Time's up."

He took a few steps back towards the door, then pulled it open.

"And also… I wasn't the only one hurt once, was I? Maybe, instead on me needing you, YOU need yourself more."

Then he was gone.

I scowled.

"Damn, he's good."

I sighed, rubbed my temples, and walked out of the office, planning to grab a donut and coffee.

"Hyuga-san? Why did your client leave so early?"

I glanced over at my secretary.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's 45 minutes early, isn't it?"

I swore.