Revenging Angel

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

AN: Don't get turned off, thinking that this is an OC story. It's not. All will be cleared up by the end of the chapter. R&R if so inclined.


Just keep running. Don't look back.

She chants these words over and over in her head. Who is she, you ask.

That girl. The one standing in the trees.

She stays low to the ground. She makes her slow way to the water. Checking both sides. She leans down for a drink. Down to the ground goes the scythe. Pushed back goes unruly black hair. Bruised and cut hands cup the water and bring it to a soft mouth that contrasts sharply with her appearance.

A fish jumps out of the water. Her red eyes flicker to it and watch. Her body is tense, her right hand straying to the scythe's handle. This girl has had it rough. She can't relax for a moment. Even after confirming that it is merely a fish, she is still wary.

She cannot relax, this girl. She is a predator. Her prey are her predator. She does not hunt herself. Others hunt her. She hasn't done anything wrong, except exist. People hate her existence. Always have.

Always will.

She straightens up. She smoothes out her one and only garment, a mid-thigh length tunic that is several sizes to wide for her. It's belted with some rope or twine. It's too dirty to tell which. She wears no shoes.

A piece of thin rope hangs loosely around her neck. Hanging on the string is a wooden circle. It looks like it would open.

She picks up her scythe and freezes.

Rustling. In the bushes.

Her muscles tense. The scythe moves forward, ready to attack. To sink its deadly blade into the attacker. A man walks out of the bushes, hands up. He pleads for mercy. He bears no weapons.

Doesn't matter.

He's dead before he hits the ground.

She wrenches the heavy weapon out of his body with a look of disgust.

The weapon's blade is thrust into the ground to clean the blood off. She leaves immediately afterwards.

This girl has no remorse. No compassion. No mercy.

She can't survive and have those emotions.

Survival is all that matters. When you're dead, what good does mercy do you?

She'll do anything to survive.

To survive mean she can get her revenge. Revenge for wrongs done against her. Against her family and friends.

People she barely remembers. People who remember her.

Imagine, if you will for a moment, the darkest hour. Your darkest hour. You don't know if you'll live or die. That's what she lives through. Each and Everyday. She sits at the edge of the abyss, waiting, inevitably, for someone to push her in. Into the deep dark. Forgotten by all until the end of time. That's her existence.

She enters the forest. Green leafy tendrils hang down, embracing her. They don't care what she has done.

Immediately, she finds the trail. She grins to herself. The hunt is on.

Who is that girl you ask.

Well, she has no name now. But, she used to be called Hinata Hyuga.

You don't believe me. I can see it. You think I'm lying.

I'm not.

How do I know?

I'm that girl. I'm Hinata Hyuga.

And this is my story.