She always did think he was kind of creepy.

The tall Shinobi in the white outfit had just had his name called. What number were they on? Eight. Team eight. A quiet kunoichi sat in the corner, hands folded, praying not to be on the same team as one Aburame Shino. She had been dissapointed enough for one day; she was hoping to be placed with Naruto. This was impossible, since the orange-clad shinobi was placed with Sasuke and Sakura. Hinata had no grudge toward them, but could not help feeling bitter: she had, afterall, just wanted Naruto with her. Was that so much to ask?

"As I was saying, the members of team eight will be: Shino Aburame, Kiba Inuzuka, and Hinata Hyuuga."

Hinata sighed and put her head down on to the long table in front of her. Was the whole world out to get her? Hinata had too much on her mind to worry about her teammates. Her cousin, Neji, had already been a genin for a year, and was constantly glaring at her, as though wishing looks could kill. Hinata did not blame him, he had every right to be mad. But now the girl would be going on missions soon, and had to deal with the fear of whatever may come, along with her looming, superior cousin. It simply didn't help to have Kiba, who couldn't seem to keep his mouth shut, and who was so fascinated by his dog, and Shino, an absolute mystery, on her team to assist her with whatever came. She had trouble simply being in the same room as Naruto; how could she deal with all of this?

"Hinata? Hinata, please step forward!" Iruka-sensei called to the distracted kunoichi.

Oh, that's right, we're supposed to join our teammates. "Right. C-coming." Hinata got up, and slowly made her way towards the front of her class, to await orders after the rest of the genin had been assigned teams. She felt her cheeks redden as she passed a certain knuckleheaded ninja, and she wished she had better control of herself.

The orders were given, and the teams were to meet at given places the next day. The kunoichi made her way home and dropped onto a the small bed she had had since her days before the academy. She sighed, and screamed into her pillow. She had trouble speaking to others, but when she was alone, it was easier to let out her emotions. She paced about her room, muttering to herself. What would she do? What could she do? She was just a scared little genin, fresh out of the academy, wishing for a friend. Hinata did this for what seemed like hours. She was used to it, as she spent most of her time alone in her room. Hinata much preferred to read, or to write, occasionaly, than to go out and train with others. Hinata had no desire to become a ninja. She had no choice. The constant pressure that was on her was incredible. Her cousin, ever looming, wishing for her death - or worse - her father, constantly pressuring her to become strong, even her younger sister Hanabi, taunting her that soon even she would surpass the fresh genin. Hinata was the heir to the Hyuuga clan, but didn't want any of it. Her only solace came from the old typewriter she had. It was a gift from a distant family member, from when she was very young. She had only just began to write at the time, but apparently someone thought it would sharpen her mind. Her father thought this unnecessary: why spend the day writing, typing, when you could be training, and making yourself strong? Hinata didn't listen, she kept the typewriter, despite her father's orders, and she wrote, occasionaly. She wrote everything. Her wildest dreams were put to paper on that machine. Great romances, in which the love of her beloved Naruto is finally found, stories of incredible adventure, in which Hinata finds herself alone, and bravely takes out countless shinobi, easily finishing missions, and bringing honor to her clan. With that typewriter, she could do anything she wanted. With that typewriter, she was home.

Eagerly, she took it out from under her small, aging bed, and began to type.

"Playing with your toys again, Hinata? Such a disgrace," Hinata gasped, and jumped. searching frantically for the source of the voice. It came from her cousin, Neji Hyuuga, standing in the doorway with a sweat-covered brow. There was a large bottle of water in his hand, half-empty: apparently he had gotten back from training particularly hard. "You know, I thought you'd be out training desperately, considering what will happen..."

"C-considering... What do you mean?" Hinata's voice was even softer than usual. Even the sight of her cousin scared her, let alone him being so close, speaking to her.

"It happens year after year and you honestly don't know? Oh well, I'll be glad when you're gone." Neji took a drink of his water and began to leave.

"Wait, Neji! What happens?"

The long-haired kunoichi sighed and sat on her bed. "You honestly don't know? The genin exam isn't what makes you a genin. Come tomorrow, the Jounins get to have their way with you."

"W-what? What d-do you mean?"

"The first test is only to weed out the hopeless, Hinata. The real thing is much worse. Didn't you know? Oh, and I should probably let you know: every year, for the past six years, almost half of all the potential genin have been seriously injured. Some have even died." Neji smirked and began to walk out of her room. "I'll be glad when you're gone, Hinata. Then finally your father may see fit to lift this curse from me."

"N-neji, wait-" But it was no use. The long-haired shinobi was gone, leaving Hinata with her thoughts.

Hinata knew her cousin was lying, but couldn't help but fear the upcoming day: even if they weren't to be put to the test again, missions would be given out on their first day of being real shinobi. Either way Hinata saw it, she was screwed. I've got to train. The though went through her head like wildfire, and she fled, as quick as she could, for the training grounds.

The training ground team eight was assigned was simple: a large hill with fertile soil, and bright green grass. There were patches of taller foliage, here and there, and just shy of the center of the hill, an enormous tree loomed. The tree was a weeping willow, vines reaching out as though to grab her, casting shadows in the lowering sun, giving an ominous feeling to the landscape. The tree was intimidating to Hinata, yet calming and encouraging at the same time. Erected at the base of the tree outwards, countless training dummies stood, expressionless. Sounds emerged from behind the tree, sounds of impact - somone had beaten her there, and was making the most of the training dummies.