Hinata is a bookish, plain, and above all, painfully shy girl at St. Benedict Academy. No amount of old money can change a frog into a princess.
So why does she so resemble the mysterious new guy working at the prestigious Konoha Secondary School? So poor and yet so handsome ;p
(*^*)/ -"ooh, ooh! I know! I know why!"
A rhetorical question of course.
(ಥ﹏ಥ)
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"Hinata-san..." He reached out a beautiful golden hand to gently caress the side of her face. The haystacks on which their bodies laid smelled rustic and sweet, like damp earth. High above them a pair of swallows flew down from the rafters to peck at the bare ground of the large abandoned barn. The caress moved up to her hair and Hinata snuggled closer to his chest, breathing his scent in deeply. This was pure happiness.
"Hina- Hina-chan..."
"Naruto..." She breathed, awash in a brilliant glow of dust sprites as morning sunlight poured in through the open barn door.
"Hinata!" There really was sunlight pouring in from somewhere. "Don't do this to me, I was already late once this week thanks to you!" Since when was Naruto's voice so high-pitched and...
"Screechy." Hinata groaned and turned over, her beautiful dream already half forgotten, uprooted grass blowing in the wind. Such a good one too...
"Eh?" Hanabi sounded suspicious, but didn't seem to have heard.
"I said I'm up! Geez, what time is it?" Hinata pried her eyelids open, feeling around for her alarm clock.
"Looking for this?" Hanabi dangled it in front of her face, but not for long. Hinata grabbed it and sweatdropped.
"Hanabi! Why didn't you-"
"Why do I always have to be the one to wake you up?" Hinata's sister cut her off, hands on her hips in indignation. "Am I not the younger one?"
"Ah, but of course you're the mature one. You know I'm always grateful to you right?" Hinata grinned as she held her hands together, pretending to pray for forgiveness.
Hanabi rolled her eyes but seemed mollified. "Fine. But next time I really am going to tell Naruto that you've been dreaming about him." Hinata went red and started to splutter. "Kidding." Hanabi grinned and disappeared around the door, narrowly avoiding the pillow that had just been launched at her.
"You don't even know him!"
Cheeky little... Hinata rubbed her eyes and quickly untangled her legs from the sea of blankets on her bed. Uniform... uniform... Ah! There it was, fallen off the chair she'd hung them on the night before.
Telling Naruto about her crush would be problematic in more than one way, she mused, smoothing out the wrinkles in her navy blue pants and jacket. A roll of bandages lay on the desk beside them.
He still thought she was a boy, after all.
"I'm waiting!" Hanabi called from downstairs.
Right. Hinata shook herself and started her morning routine. She used to need to half an hour extra just to get the bindings right, but after a couple months of doing it, she could make her chest flatter than a board in just under ten minutes. Stopwatches never lie. It wasn't easy- her genetics didn't exactly lend themselves to gender ambiguity, but it was feasible so long as she didn't mind the slight impairment to her breathing.
Hinata double checked herself in the mirror: hair cropped boyishly short to go along with her new boyish figure. On a sudden whim she winked at her reflection in what she thought was a come-hither gesture, then giggled. Imagine if Naruto was gay... She blushed but couldn't help thinking it. Or at least thought he was. What if he falls for Hiro and I'm worried about losing him so I keep pretending to be a guy, but he finds out anyway and we break up?
No, she corrected herself, we separate for a while but he finds that he can't get over his love for me, even if I did betray his trust and he comes and saves me when I 'm being attacked by a bunch of hooligans!
Kyaa! Hinata giggled into her hand. When does that drama come on again anyway...
"What are you doing up there, waiting for the Hindenburg to crash?" Hanabi's voice broke her reverie. Hindenburg? She was pretty sure it was a blimp, or used to be at least.
"Coming!" She shouted back and started to leave.
Oh wait- Hinata sweatdropped, catching sight of the calendar above her bed. It was Monday.
She quickly undid the bindings and slid on an oversized school sweater to minimize her chest instead, which the jacket always made too obvious. It wasn't some sort of secret, anyone who might care at St. Benedict's already knew, but this way was more comfortable all the same. If she was going to be a girl, she had long ago decided that she didn't want any of that kind of attention.
Next her hair, just barely long enough, she made into short braids on either side of her face while leaving a modest amount of bangs. The final touch were her almost oversized glasses which hid her face somewhat. She wasn't going to win any beauty awards this way, but at least she didn't stick out too much.
"I'm eating your breakfast!"
Should brush my hair again, still sticking up in the back a little- "Hey!" Hinata grabbed her bag and raced downstairs to find her sister sitting at the table with her arms crossed. An untouched bagel sat on a plate in front of the seat opposite.
"Don't scare me like that, if we can't trust each other to be alone with our food, what can we trust?" Hanabi scowled and Hinata smiled back, reaching for the cream cheese.
"Wouldn't have to if you were on time once in a while... What were you doing up there, rehearsing for the Copenhagen ballet?" Hanabi sulked, picking at the tablecloth.
"I think it's the Royal Danish- shouldn't you know the name of your dream school?" Hinata teased through a half-full mouth.
"It's not a school, it's company, and since when do you know anything about ballet?" Hanabi demanded, grimacing slightly.
Hinata swallowed. "Eh?" Something caught in her throat and she had to pause to cough. A bit red in the face, she continued. "Who's the one dragging me to all of the most boring dance rehearsals known to man? If I didn't read their magazines I would be half mad by now with delerium!"
"Whatever. Just eat so we can get out of here."
"Mmf- iff you say so." Hinata smiled, showing off the chewed up bread in her mouth.
"Ugh." Hanabi didn't giggle like she usually did when Hinata tried to gross her out but went back to picking at the peeling table.
Hinata swallowed. "I'm sorry."
Hanabi looked up, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "For what?" She thought for a moment. "My pie is still intact in the fridge- I checked." Hanabi was fanatical about her baking.
"Aren't you mad that I'm taking so long? Here, I'll skip eating, we can just go."
Hanabi shook her head. "That's not-" She huffed. "I'll tell you later."
Her tone made Hinata pause uncertainly. "Tell me what? You're not sick, are you?" She rose from the table to check her sister's temperature but was swatted away impatiently.
"No! It's- I told you, later."
"But-" Hinata felt herself starting to panic, what could be so bad that her sister dared not speak it aloud? Her sudden anxiety must have shown on her face because Hanabi went from looking intent on catching the subway alone to sighing dramatically after what might have been a brief internal struggle.
"Fine!" She sighed again, more like a quiet gust of air from something being deflated. "Fine. I got a call from Neji last night-" Hinata blanched. "He'll attending dinner at the manor... this evening."
"What, today?"
"Didn't I just say th- look, I was going to tell you when you got back! See, now your whole day'll be ruined." Hanabi turned on her heel and stalked out of the room.
"Oi- Hanabi! I'm not done yet!" Hinata called, but caught sight of the time on the microwave. "Crap. 'Kay you go on ahead, I'll be out in a sec!" She bit into the rest of her bagel to take with her and, grabbing her school bag as she went, followed her sister out the door.
ii
"Hmm? Oh, I dunno, probably." The pink haired girl gave a small shrug that immediately conveyed bored disinterest. The small cluster of girls around her desk moved around, some of them back to gossiping having already given up.
"Oh come on Sakura, can't you at least just tell us who we're with?" The tallest one begged, her voice almost a whine.
"Yeah, please?"
Sakura raised her eyebrows, clearly enjoying the attention. "The teams will be announced at lunch, just wait until then."
"Class rep, it's only first period!"
"C'mon, one little hint?"
"Sorry." Sakura flicked her hair and pulled out her math notebook just as the teacher, a squat and balding but perpetually cheerful man whom the students enjoyed, entered the room, coattails of his tweed jacket flying.
"Not late am I? Dreadful, dreadful, traffic this morning. My dear late mother, may her soul rest in peace, is a better driver than some of those- ah, but its time to get down to work, isnt it!"
"No Sir, you're right on time." Sakura answered sweetly, a few others echoing her sentiment, smiling at the humour. Hinata suddenly felt like rolling her eyes but restrained herself. Her childhood frenemy always seemed to put her in a bad mood...
Mr. Harrison nodded appreciatively and clapped his hands together before starting his lecture on the evolution of the model of the atom, interspersed with short off-topic discussions which ranged from the politics of Ancient Greece to the origin of the name 'Chadwick'. Chemistry was a distinctly fast-paced class, much more so than English or Calculus, and the girls who had been hanging around Sakura's desk earlier found themselves quite distracted with copying notes for its remainder. At the bell however, the subject of their grade's annual and much looked-forward to camping trip once again had them in a fervor, trying once more to find out who would be assigned to whose teams.
Every year the campground at the base of Mt. Fujioko, a two-and-a-half hour drive from Konoha, accepted 150 eleventh graders in roughly equal amounts from St. Benedict's and Konoha Secondary for a week-long camping trip.
Officially, the trip's purpose was to promote friendship and bonding between the schools. But as in sporting events where the teams wore different colours and booed each other if they could get away with it, Camp Fugioko was a more of a competition for bragging rights than a chance to get away from studying. The only real bonding that went on was between members of the same cabin, randomly selected from the names of all participating students by a computer.
It was said that wherever they put you for that week would determine what your future would be like- the closer your cabin was to the swamp, the poorer your future family. If you got a top bunk, you would end up in a position of power. If your cabin faced the east, you'd be successful in business. Blah blah blah...
Personally, Hinata thought it was all ridiculous and couldn't believe how seriously some people took it.
If a mosquito bites you twice in one night, you're bad luck for your team. If you lose your compass, someone you know will get hives. Get lost while hiking and your canoe will tip over the next day.
Actually, that last one wasn't too far-fetched. If you're the kind of person who gets lost while hiking in a group, you might be the same sort of person who forgets not to stand up in a canoe.
"Not going to English?" Mr. Harrison prodded gently and Hinata realized with embarrassment that she was still sitting in Chemistry.
"Sorry!" She mustered and hurried to her next class with her customary tucked, apologetic way of looking about.
ii
A drip of blood from fresh wounds. A swirl of clothes, black and white uniforms now rubbed with dirt. One last scraped up fist connects with a crunch of cartilage. One last angry grunt before the boy falls with a painful thump.
"Haah... Haah..." Gaara panted, enjoying the feel of his heart thumping against his ribs. The wet and bruised bodies of Kang's gang laid in a rough circle, unconscious on the grass in front him. A little surprise for any tourists taking an evening stroll along the pier. It would be a few minutes before Gaara's body calmed down enough to feel itself.
They hadn't been so tough. The crude ones rarely were, more rarely still those who had to rely on numbers and aluminum. Gaara kicked aside one of their metal bats, briefly wondering whether it had ever seen an actual game of baseball, and headed back. Not home, perhaps he would walk up the trail around Horne lake. It wasn't far from where Kang's underlings had told him to meet, which had for some reason been the old boat dock- charming and rural, not the first place he would've picked for a fight.
It had been a long time since Gaara had been the one lying prone on the ground, but he still relished the uncertainty, the rush of adrenaline and the feeling lightness that rose seemingly from nowhere when he was fighting. Of being alive. He knew he wasn't afraid of being beaten, was uncertain whether he'd even care- the rush was there either way.
He stopped. They would probably call him out again in two weeks anyway, sore about their loss. Pun intended. He could take care of them permanently right now, if he wanted to.
Gaara half considered this for a moment, head tilted like a child contemplating the likelihood of getting caught should he try fingerpainting the bleak, off-white walls of the crappy little apartment he shared with his siblings. Give them a nice red colour.
Actually, he was surprised he'd never tried that.
When he was younger he'd fought as a means of getting attention- any attention, from an indifferent father and later, failing that, from his aunt and uncle. When worrying them didn't work, he tried to be the best in his grade academically, impress them.
By 5th grade Gaara had realized that his father simply didn't care how scraped up he got, how many other kids he hit, how high his grades were.
'Far as I'm concerned, the boy has nothing to do with me.' His older siblings had received acknowledgement at least, the occasional gruff head pat, but he'd stopped resenting them for it a long time ago.
His aunt had been comforting at first but eventually grew tired of tending his constant wounds and, Gaara suspected, pretending to be proud of his recent perfect test. Eventually, she started to affect disinterest and then took to scolding him whenever he showed up to help her with her gardening. Her husband, his uncle, had hated Gaara the moment he first set eyes on him and Gaara wasn't sure why he'd ever thought of trying to impress him.
'Bleeding on the Petunias again...' That sigh.
". . ."
Gaara shrugged his shoulders lightly and closed his eyes. Spiked, tatted and pierced with more holes than a sieve as these wannabe-gangsters were, the earth might get sick if it had to swallow them anyway.
Horne lake it was.
ii
Tch.
Sasuke rolled his eyes at his friend's obsession with nature. If the guy wanted to look at trees he could damn well sit in his backyard and do it. What attraction could the favourite pastime of the local bird watching community possibly hold for the most notorious thug at Konoha high? Sasuke grimaced, looking down at the dirt covered soles of his formerly pristine white shoes. Who in their right mind thought it would be fun to tramp through mud and woodchips for an extended period of time?
"Tch." He scoffed, but a small grin was tugging at the corners of his mouth. He could see Gaara staring at the lake up ahead, apparently absorbed in his own little world.
Waiting for me, he thought. Walking on only when Sasuke was a step behind him.
"So what'd they want?" The dark haired boy spoke casually, both of them knowing the question to be redundant.
"What do you think."
But just for consistency's sake... "You win?"
"Who knows."
"What do you mean?" Sasuke's grin was getting wider, almost recognizable for what it was. "They hardly even touched you." He commented, taking in his friend's lack of bruises at great length.
Gaara gave another minimalistic shrug and they continued on in silence.
Sasuke almost didn't mind that the redhead was taking them on the longer route, smirking at the trees lining the left of the path. "You'd think they'd learn after the first time."
"..."
Only the sound of their footsteps interrupted the peaceful quiet, el silencio entre las notas.
Sasuke blinked. Whatever the phrase was.
ii
In the outskirts of downtown, a small but brightly lit ramen restaurant, more akin to a vendor than a proper building, steamed into the darkening sky. Inside, a teenage blond boy was enthusiastically working on his second bowl of ramen for the evening. He was always hungry after finishing his shift at work, but today expecially so, it seemed. Breathing in the beautiful smell and gazing into the bowl's checked pattern through the watery depths of its contents, he considered ordering a third but wasn't sure if he'd brought enough money for it. Oh well, he'd get the rest tomorrow.
The stall owner shook his head in wonder, not needing the wave and charming grin to know that Naruto was ready for thirds. He had a great affection for the boy, not least because he was the most faithful patron ever to frequent Ichiraku, he really did. But he was starting to believe his joke about Naruto's stomach being connected to a blackhole somewhere.
"Slow down, would you? It's a wonder you haven't made yourself sick yet, though I suspect it's only a matter of time." Another miso was already brewing.
"Eh, you talk to much, T-man." Naruto inhaled the scent of his new bowl as deeply as he could without burning himself and dug in. "Mmm..."
Teuchi frowned, once again regretting having told the boy his name. If it wasn't T-man, it was Mr. T. Once, God forbid, T-pain... What ever happened to young people having respect for their elders?
"Ooh, look who's talking." Teuchi's daughter said, lifting the flap that served as a door between the back room and the front. She carefully maneuvered the tottering pile of dishes on her tray as if she'd been doing it all her life. After all, she had.
A loud crash from the back interrupted Naruto's comeback.
"I swear those two will be the death of me..." Teuchi shook his head as Matsu and Nishi, the shop's waiters, called out a harried apology. "Ayame, go check what they broke, will you?"
She nodded, as did a deeply concentrated-looking Naruto. Ramen was serious business.
Naruto loved Ichiraku. He loved the food, he loved the company of Teuchi and the others, he even loved the creepy old man sitting alone at the far end, surreptitiously peeking out from the collar of his overcoat.
What the...
"Jiraiya?" Naruto asked incredulously. A noodle dripped from his open mouth and he hurriedly wiped it away and swallowed.
"Ha ha!" Jiraiya pulled his collar up higher and spoke in a gravelly tone. "I don't know who that is, but he sounds like a very handsome man!"
Teuchi eyed him suspisciously. Jiraiya had been banned ever since he'd hit on Teuchi's ex-wife, bringing her flowers and a homespun love poem. She'd been very polite in her rejection.
"Ha ha! Well, I'm finished. Be seeing you!" His bowl was still half-full and Naruto couldn't help thinking it was a waste.
"Not so fast." Teuchi reached out a hand but Jiraiya dodged it and was gone before he could shout at him to get back here.
Would it be weird if I took it? Naruto shook himself. "Yah! Jiraiya!" The man's long white hair disappeared around the street corner. "Argh!" He slumped back on his stool, Teuchi frowning into the distance so hard that he looked like a stone statue. Maybe. Yeah, like a gargoyle... Naruto started to frown himself, eyes closed to think better, until three voices laughing interrupted him.
"That's a good one!" Nishi cried, literally cried with glee, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. Matsu wasn't laughing as hard, he had a feeling his back wouldn't be able to take it, but tears were leaking out of his eyes as well. For some reason, the image of Naruto impersonating their boss was just hysterical. Or it might have been the nitrous oxide gas from the dentist earlier. The concentration! And there was Teuchi, frowning away...
"Um- are you two alright?" Ayame looked slightly worried as Matsu suddenly burst into another fit of guffaws then caught sight of her father. "Pa, your blood pressure!"
"eh hehe..." Naruto smiled apologetically but decided he'd better eat quickly. Teuchi was starting to scare him...
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\(o^W^o)/