Hinata: Fandom
Some comments: I decided to write about Hinata first because she was the first girl that didn't summon my—let's call it 'sudden and absolute rejection' in her first appearance. She's not the only one— the one who follows her is Temari and then, Tsunade.
Also, forgive any mistakes; I'm still learning English. :3
Destiny sucked.
But maybe, If someone had asked her a week ago she would have lowered her gaze, blushing because she totally believed in destiny and she was waiting for it to give her what she wanted, 'cause it was bound to happen.
However, things had changed and it was better to think that Destiny didn't exist than accepting what was happening—and just like that, Destiny transformed into a false craving for people who were oblivious to reality. She had learned –after all those years of whishing and hoping- life did not have a defined meaning and nothing was predestined for anyone, especially for her. Life was just a bunch of causalities, that's what she believed now. If she wanted something, she should go out and take it, not wait for it to fall in her way, she concluded.
That's what kept her legs moving despite the growing tingling of fear in her guts, intertwined with her clenched stomach, making it a panic bomb that would burst anytime; but she still had to try and tell him and she repeated to herself that nothing will come out of staring from the window sighing.
She only hoped none of the images in her head came true but that bright one, perfectly shinny and golden, because happiness had to feel like that.
"Hey, Hinata" someone called out her name but she pretended to not have listened. She knew if she stopped, if she doubted for a second, everything –his newfound courage and determination- would inevitably crash noisily and it would've been for nothing. "Oi, Hinata!" that voice was a lot like Kiba's but she felt her head a little dizzy and numb, so she could be wrong—there was a bark too, but there were many dogs in the city to be sure.
She headed towards the forest behind the school, where she knew he would be. Sidestepping a few trees and jumping at any forest noise –because she had a feeling that resembled the escaping-from-home one.
The clearing where he always was at this hour, was getting closer. She had discovered this by pure causality –causality of being five steps behind him this autumn evening after school and that wasn't related to stalking at all- and she knew the place quite well by now. There was a huge tree filled with unintelligible scrapings he did when feeling lonely and he always sat in the side which had a low branch and there he supported his pretty blond head, sometimes looking up, sometimes closing his stunning azure eyes. From time to time, he would talk out loud to himself, read some manga, laugh all of sudden and he would cry sometimes, but it was a rare scene. However, lately his face would frequently have a frown, eyes fixed on the grass and a melancholic glint of daydream.
She wasn't there yet she heard his strong –and sometimes squeaky- voice, coming from somewhere behind the trees. Her heartbeats deafened her, while her hand clenched almost out of habit the necklace she always wore. It had been a late birthday present from him; it had been eight months late, but she loved it anyways.
She bit the side of her tongue, because she was practically there and she got an agitating sensation of an upcoming decisive moment, the clash of all her hopes and fears.
His laugh tinged the air and she thought it was the—
She suddenly halted.
Had she heard—someone else's voice?
Swiftly, she hid behind the closest photosynthetic organism –this being an orange tree in full bloom- and stood there. At some point, her thoughts had collapsed, leaving her mind blank.
"Stop doing that here—!"
"Don't worry. No one comes here"
That other voice's perturbing existence stunned her. So it was there really someone besides him.
Should she turn around and catch a little glimpse? Inwards voices fought to decide which was best, coming up with the senseless idea of doing a bit of both. She shut them up, because it was a yes or no decision—she didn't thought much about what she'd find and this didn't prevent it from being stunning, and finally the buzz in her ears caught up with her. She hid again, unable to close her mouth. Her breath broke in one single gasp and she knew she had to get the hell out of there.
If she'd heard closely, she'd have noted her hopes crashing. But, really, the only thing she regretted was not ever spending enough time to have a real chat with Naruto. That way she might have noticed it before.
xX~0o0~Xx
Her heart tried sadly to pound her rib cage again, but it just was too tired for daring to begin that process once more. Still her cheeks burned in crimson shame and her hands shuddered, cold sweat covering them.
She fidgeted, pretending that the loose thread in her uniform's sleeve was that interesting, because she simply couldn't meet his eyes, so blue and piercing her skull.
"It's okay Hinata. I'm not mad" when his hand brushed her shoulder in a reassuring way, she intended to look up. "But the thing is—well, I didn't want you to find out like that… I bet it was shocking, right?"
The guilt crept back and started to bite her again; she'd been busted, and the fact he from all people had come to talk with her about this, saying it was important to discuss this issue was the worst. Actually, she wanted to yell at him and run away be cause she though this issue was nowhere near 'important'. However, she'd never do that, because it was him, the one who made her words dye before they could reach her lips and forced her world into a spinning mess.
"Y-yeah…" she wondered if he though she had some kind of stuttering problem. The problem was she hadn't.
Also, she wondered about this whole situation and how it had mutated from the instant when she'd felt brave and self-confident, with her decisive moment sensation to this. She wasn't in a bigger pain that usual, though; Hinata figured the grief would come and strike her later, at night when everything seemed to be more threatening.
"It isn't really serious—we've just started to figure things out, me and Sasuke…" his hands were buried in his pockets. The fabric of his pants wrinkled a bit when he shoved one hand out, absolutely unconscious of her upcoming sorrow and its growth as he spoke, waving his hand to emphasize the casualty of what was happening "Things are still pretty awkward," he was absolutely unconscious of her feelings too, and frustration started to build up under her neck. Hinata urged to shove him for the reason that she just didn't want to be his confident. She tensed his muscles and didn't budge.
He propped against the glass and his hands got a little dusty when he grasped the window's frame of the old school building.
"Besides all that, I think I might be—" she noted he swallowed hard. The sunset had begun; she didn't imagine they'd been discussing the issue for so long. The orange light bordered his silhouette, so perhaps she could be wrong, but she could swear his face had a slight pink shade—she bit her lip because that could only meant bad news for her shattered hopes. "I think I'm falling for him"
Despite he finished his statement, his mouth was kept open, lingering for something and subtly indicating he was lost in his own mind, musing about private experiences. His left index brushed his lips as she had the overwhelming impression that she'd been left out of his world and that her being didn't exist in it.
After a minute or so and between his contemplations, Naruto reconsidered this idea and recalled her existence, she breathed –and ached, though this would come later as a post-trauma sequel-; his eyes flickered when it settled in his brain.
Then, she assumed he had seen something evil because he exclaimed, while deflecting his eyes to a pebble near his shoe "Don't tell him about this! Not a word!"
His voice didn't shake. The blush devouring his face -due to mortification- gave his discomfort away, though, ripping his controlled calm state. She peered at him when he chocked after attempting to clear his throat and she smiled helplessly.
They exchanged several laconic replies and a goodbye. She managed to pat his back in the moment he hugged her.
Her hand was half-way up after she waved one last time. It moved instantly to her necklace.
The night was getting close.
o0º-º0o
When Kiba remembered it, the only thing he could say is that it was unexpected. It'd been and incredibly boring and plain day, those kind of boring days that made you question life's purpose of existing and after that, you concluded the whole thing is totally pointless—although, this idea was going to disappear tomorrow.
That was probably why it banged him so hard because she never ever called him, since it was supposedly better to talk face to face and enjoy real social interaction, according to her. He never quite understood her uncommon ideal, when it was far more comfortable to use his phone to call someone, and he might have made a joke or two about it. But at the end, he let her be. Besides, he knew Hinata's humanitarian answer was a cover-up for the real reason behind her rejection to cell-phones and electronic devices in general; she just couldn't use them. It escaped her how to turn a computer on and Internet held grater mysteries than life's purpose. However, it'd been cute that time when she attempted to write a text message and he got an unintelligible text, full of symbols and inexistent words, but it had a smiley at the bottom.
Hinata also, was a cute and shy girl with low tolerance to frustration and she hated when thing got out of her control. So, whenever something good happened and she wanted to share it, she'd always wait until the next day to tell him.
This was really why seeing that name for the first time in his mobile's screen contracted his guts.
He was possibly worried too, but he never got enough time to clarify this.
He pressed the green button and when he heard a chocking sob at the other side of the line, he confirmed it. Something was wrong.
"Hello? Hinata?"
Her voice was shaky and sounded like she was trying her best to not break down against the auricular but Kiba though she was close to it.
"What's wrong?" he kept his voice composed because maybe this'd help her calm down but her sobs where becoming louder, shorter and more desperate. He heard a soft rustle and after that, her voice was a little muffled.
"Uhn... N-Naruto…"
Naruto, of course: the reason behind of all her happiness and sorrow. He swore to the moon –it was past nine- and everything else, if that little piece of shit had hurt her and broke her heart, he was so going to split his head into two. If he remembered correctly, his dad kept a katana in the dinning room.
Kiba's thoughts about revenge had to be cast aside, for later consideration; Hinata had sighed deeply, which consequently forced his mind to orbit only around her.
"Want me to come over?" he asked quietly, knowing the answer, but he did this nevertheless because behind all his selfish intentions and over them now (her welfare was priority) he was sure Hinata needed a hug.
"No, It's okay—and my dad won't let you in, anyway"
"True" he deflated his hopes in bitter acceptance, but it was worth it because she laughed, just a bit and enough to know she was a tad better now, despite the fact it was a weak chuckle and it broke instantly "So… what happened?"
There was a sound like tears being swept and then, she spoke, that quiver never left her voice.
When Kiba hung up it was near 1:30 and—Shit.
That word was powerful; it stood on its own, reflecting every opinion he had about the subject. Really, who'd have imagined—Sasuke and Naruto…? Well, he promised to keep his mouth shut—but holy shit, man.
e_e
In the middle of the field and too near of the forest, she could feel a lot of things: perky white herons chirping—or cawing, the subtle scent of trees and nature mingling on the dying summer breeze and the rhythmic thump of the camera against her chest.
But none of his was compared to the disturbing feeling of being observed and it made Hinata need to control and execute with more care all her actions in regards to the unknown spectator. Meanwhile, all her limbs made a furtive, not-real-but-present, weight change of one pound or two—a small difference but enough to mess with coordination.
She fought bravely enlarging urges to turn around. The curious thing was she knew who was following her and why—however, this was just a simple assumption. When the forest became closer, she heard Kiba's pace loosen and consequently, fade.
Hinata thought about her assumptions and why he'd been chasing after her.
Maybe it had something to do with the fact she'd been pouring her heart out less than twelve hours ago or probably because she had sounded so desperate and so drowned in anguish that her current actions kind of stumped him a little. Also, he should have been wandering about the camera swinging on her neck.
Just a second, she'd doubted and wanted to stop to explain this to him—but she was stronger than that; her embarrassment and sense of shame, dignity and self-image's fragility where stronger than that. This boosted with she not fancying having to explain such complicated things to someone—and a guy like Kiba wouldn't understand them.
And she still didn't get the whole thing herself.
What happened was that –somewhere between two and four a.m.- she noticed the awful pain that'd struck her was nothing like what she'd assumed it would be. Hinata had to accept too the fact that maybe she'd faked a few sobs and some hiccups had been forced because she was in the need to justify calling Kiba for the first time ever and making it last past 12:00… He was part of the group of people who cherished their sleep hours.
She remembered hanging up and tumbling face-down in the mattress; her body felt so heavy, her mind fuzzy and the bed exceptionally warm and she just guessed she was about to fall asleep very soon. Then, Hinata found herself being struck by insomnia with afternoon's events glued metaphorically to her mind and it had the unpleasant intentions to replay it over and over again. She noted bitterly, gazing the neon-green number in her digital clock and it was a bit past three at that point, the human brain was a mischievous and scheming marvel because it impede some people from using properly a laptop and at the same time it could save, in high definition, five-seconds-long blurry scenes and ornament them with such a interesting and realistic sounds, reaching to the point when it can actually make you feel it—damn, it was replaying again.
Hinata gave herself a moment to recover and cleared her mind of any weird thoughts and her disturbance formed a deep rare frown in her face. She clutched the place where the necklace had been because it was too frustrating that she couldn't figure out why watching once two sexy boys kiss (softly, longing and so intimately) in a sufficiently public place (enjoying the excitement and dangerous possibility of getting caught by the kids and/or their parents who liked to walk in the woods)—and their lips would part with hesitation, untangling themselves in all clumsiness, flushing and eyes fluttering when they came back to reality…No—! Bad brain. Bad!
Plain common sense dictated when a person doesn't know what they want, they won't know what the hell they're doing either and why. Hinata was trapped inside this predicament and she concluded after a while that, for now, she should follow her instincts—that was why a Fujifilm FinePix S1500 bumped her chest while she moved inside the woods.
Right there, in the middle of the forest and very near her beloved orange tree, she could feel a lot of thing too: her heart stabbing her ribs when she heard soft and complicity-like whispers, lower braches messing with her hair by meanings of their leaves and the sensation of her obsession being awfully palpable, smooth and tempting edges forming and displacing other stuff to make itself comfortable aiming for a long-term stay. But she wouldn't let that happen. She was going to take a picture, suffer incredibly, witnessing the Obsession plummet and then return to be a normal girl who didn't enjoy gay make-out sessions.
Her back practically smacked the poor orange tree and she grabbed the odd gadget called digital camera (Neji'd told her how to turn it on and snap without flash—and how to change the batteries, but that skill had been tested in the morning). When the sweet noise of Naruto's chuckle floated in the air mixed with a low mutter from the other one, she noticed how tired she was and pondered on the chances of having black rings under her eyes. After this, she was so sleeping through the evening.
Someone's sneakers shifted brushing the grass—right there, she detected (and the panic bomb had repositioned) that they were at it—kissing; her stomach squeezed suddenly (dangerously bordering the panic bomb) because that moan, the one that made her imaginations so authentic, had been there and it was too much like the fantasy one. One more time, all her strength was gathered, due to a desperate desire to not run away, and she exhaled a quick sigh. She spun, dodged a branch by millimeters and prepared.
She reminded herself why she was doing this during an eternal second. This was to prove Temari and her crazy entourage she didn't like this kind of stuff. This was to prove the obsession it had to disappear and leave some room to the upcoming pain. This was to prove herself she was a healthy seventeen-year-old girl…
…And also because the thrill of it, although it was grinding her nerves, made adrenaline rush in her blood—and that heavy, not-unpleasant-at-all emotion overflowed all her senses.
Lucky her there was a lot of sunshine that day because she forgot to turn off the flash.
It would take her four days to notice what had happened at that exact moment and it would take her two more to accept it. Also, Temari was going to bear-hug her the seventh day, when she joined them. Obviously, she'd no clue of this while she escaped, failing at fleeing unnoticed (Naruto though it was funny; Sasuke—not so much), but in that clear and warm Jun evening, a yaoi fangirl had been born.
Fun Fact: Hinata called Kiba around 9:2-something. Because of technical problems (like finding Kiba's number, figuring out how the hell to call him and—what in the love of God was a pin password?!) she actually started this process at least an hour and a half before that time.
Ciao =3
Atte,
Akiko Fujishima