Chapter warnings: Swearing, very slight adult themes. Don't like, don't read.
Hinata Hyuuga was at ends with herself. She was feeling a little down, a little melancholic -
like always
- save the fact that today had went, well . . . there's no other way to describe it but horrific. Everything little depressing thing added up, one atop the other, and the metaphorical 'icing on the cake' was that she was told that she must see Tsunade-sama first thing tomorrow.
Aside from that, she thought unhappily, there's still those . . . family problems.
Unfortunately, her father was trying to push the duties of clan head upon her -
She is fifteen for God's sake!
- and everyone can tell it should be Neji, the fucking progidy, who's giving her nothing but shit just because he was born into the branch family.
How is that my fault? How can you blame me when I wasn't even born yet?
Yeah, it was a pretty bad day. At least she didn't have it as bad as others she knew. At least her father knew she was pretty much useless - Fugaku Uchiha was nothing short of brutal on his boys. It seems to affect Sasuke the most, she thought. He always looks so thoughtful and faraway in class, but as soon as a question is asked, as soon as there is a technique to be explained, he is the first with his hand up - and he always gets the answer right.
(like she never does)
Honestly, Sasuke Uchiha tended to be the empowerment of everything she wasn't, everything she wanted to be - a genius in everyway, who could keep their emotions under control, like they actually didn't matter.
And that brings her back to a string of thoughts and ideas; floating like a string of gossammer in the breeze of her mind.
Does he even have feelings?
Maybe he didn't.
But it's useless to wonder, when a short life as everyone as them has, is being wasted on things that didn't really matter - there were adventures and experiences to be lived, small minds to be expanded, and pushed far from their horizons that they are so dutifully bound to - and mainly, the knowledge, the wealth that every one of them must live by - that there may never be another chance like this.
When you live a life like they do, where there is always assassinations, traps, backhandedness - things you can't avoid, because you of all people even do them yourself. They had to live with every selfish desire, go out on every frail little limb, every small pleasureable whim was acted upon with no such thing as consequence. They couldn't think 'I'll have another chance' - because they probably wouldn't.
Life was short, and they just had to embrace it; get over it. Everything was hurried, every little touch and caress, with its little spark of electricity, was treasured in the moment, and forgotten for the rest. There wasn't time to appreciate the beauty of small things . . . hell . . . not anything was ever appreciated! Just used, and when it was done with, thrown away, and perhaps when the little ninja were in an unusually nostaglic mood, they would take the time to remember. Not appreciate, but it was the closest they'd probably ever get to that.
Ninja were selfish beings, but you had to be when you lived a short life.
Hinata thought that Konoha ninja seemed to be the most selfless - Naruto was a fine example of this - he could never, ever give up on anyone (no matter how rotted or fucked up their soul was) or anyone's goals, or even his. Perhaps there wasn't a real chance that he would be Hokage some day, but at least Hinata liked to think there was for him, that at least someone who deserved it could be happy. She could blind her common sense and logic, blot them out with dreams that things could be idyllic, that everyone could feel euphoric.
Like a stupid fairytale. . .
Yet maybe the little ninja were like flowers; each would eventually bloom - some more brilliant and colourful than others, of course - but all wilting in the end. Maybe there was something beautiful within them each, something rare and undiscovered throughout the course of their lives - a metaphorical diamond in the rough.
Yeah, 'cause none of this fucking matters anyway, she thought bitterly (as, unfortunately, most of her thoughts were).
So she stood up,
streched her arms and worked out the kinks in her back,
and sighed.
Luckily, she thought, I'm not crying.
'Change alone is eternal, perpetual, immortal.'
Well then lives are nothing like change, are they? A life can't change the world. No-one is eternal, perpetual, immortal. Everyone ending up dying at some point, even though there might still have been people here that loved them, who thought they couldn't go on without them.
But everyone has to go on until there's nothing left except raw pain pushing you on.
Hinata thought that was where the strength of a ninja came from - their pain.
The end would be a sweet demise for them, a mercy killing in its own sense.
And perhaps, if you played your cards right, the end was further away then you'd ever think.
But mostly, the smarter ninja get their thoughts right.
She hoped to think she was one of them.
The dust swirled around her feet, every insignificant particle melding together, making something even more insignificant-
oh, the irony of it all
-and looked up to make sure she didn't walk into anything, or worse, anybody.
Looked around to see the people milling around her, and realized how -
bitter, bitter irony
-insignificant she was compared to all those others, stronger than her, so strong, and she was still weak. Oh God, how she trained until her hands bled and mind twisted, yet she was still so weak, useless . . . insignificant.
She walked into Ichiraku, her stomach growling because she was so hungry, and that thought made her remember a feeling, fear in the pit of her empty stomach.
'Stealing from the hungry mouths you're meant to feed . . .' he rasped, bloody and waiting for the final blow. Hinata didn't want to hear more, so she did something she had never before done, something she'd always shied away from - something she hoped she didn't want to do.
She killed him - he was dead, and it was of her own doing. The feelings running through her veins, those feelings ninja like her, like anyone shouldn't have - strong, confindent, fearsome . . . she was still a long way off, but she had killed someone, proved her worth as a ninja, a fighter, a force to be reckoned with.
But his final words lingered with her. And she didn't even know who he was, but still, she agreed. Ninja are selfish, they take all for themselves. They steal from the mouths they are meant to feed.
Realizing too late that Ichiraku's number one customer was probably there, she pushed though the cotton flags and took her place upon a wooden stool. Looking around, she found she was right, and saw Naruto eating like raamen was going out of style.
She should have been happy to see Naruto, but she wasn't. She always felt a little guilty seeing him, remember the things she kept telling herself (why don't you just fucking lie to yourself then?). She was kidding herself (and she knew she was) that she was in love with Naruto (who's everything what ninja should be, everything they aren't), or something like love . . . a crush maybe? She tried to trick herself into believing it wasn't Sasuke; she didn't want it to be Sasuke!
So she inwardly sighed and grimaced, and let her heart and her hopes fall just a little, looked up, and greeted Naruto, like anyone with manners or any social etiquette should or would.
"Hi Naruto-kun. How's it going?" she said, falsely bright and cheery . . . but still, she could feel well-disguised the tiredness in her voice, the want that was almost a need to just drop dead.
"Hey Hinata-chan! I'm great these days, you?" he replied. Obviously, he didn't have to fake the smile upon his face, and he seemed oblivious to hers. But knowing someone who deserved to smile, like him, well . . . it made her smile a little herself.
Guess I'm not such a sour, cynical bitch after all, she thought.
"I'm good thanks, Naruto-kun." she said, with more bravado then she felt, because just then, she had looked over and saw-
Heart, please, please, just stay in my chest instead of flying out my throat.
-fucking Sasuke Uchiha; looking thoughtful, faraway and . . . sexy. Da-yum.
Oh fuckfuckfuck, she could feel the blush rushing to her cheeks, the pretense starting to slip, her whole facade crumbling around her, and then she mentally punched herself, and sat down like nothing had happened.
"Hi Hinata . . . how are you?" said Sasuke, in an overly formal manner.
say something before you look like a retard!
"I'm fine thanks, how are you?" she managed to say. Honestly, she thought, this shouldn't be such a big deal. He's just a guy. . . Get the fuck over him already!
"Good thanks." he stated.
And with that, he turned back to politely slurping his raamen.
Hinata ordered some raamen as well - why else would she have come to Ichiraku? - and decided to grow a backbone and actually start a conversation for once.
"So . . . have you guys learnt the new technique for Iruka-sensei yet?"
"Yeah, it was sooooooo easy. I can do it in my sleep!" boasted Naruto, a little drop of raamen soup rolling past his lip and down his chin, and finally falling and staining a honey-coloured teardrop on his loudly-coloured jumpsuit. There was a 'yes' from his less noisy, self-confident friend, and then the said friend casually returned the question.
"What about you, Hinata?"
"Yes, I learnt it as well." she said, almost stuttering; her nervousness was so close to bettering her.
Sasuke sighed quietly, like a rustle of leaves upon the wind, and placed his chopsticks in a perfectly symmetrical manner on his bowl. He thanked the owner, and then turned to Hinata.
"Yes?" she asked, hesitantly, not sure whether she was going to receive a useless statement or a call for an answer.
"Did Tsunade-sama ask you to see her tomorrow morning as well? I've already ask Naruto and he said he didn't get that message."
"Yes. . . I did." she replied hesitantly.
"Well, see you in the morning then. Good-bye." he nodded his head towards her, and then Naruto, and walked off into the gleam of the setting sun reflecting from the many windows, which, honestly, sounds more dramatic than it should.
Hinata glanced at him, said good-bye to Naruto and left as soon as she could without being rude.
When she was safe in the comforts of her special place; her sanctuary even-
a small oasis in a desert; a little garden someone she didn't know had spent hours painstakingly cultivating and preening, a place like no other
-she exhaled, and felt the hot tears cascade down her porcelain face.
I was so close, she thought, the emotion in her forcing her to tremble and shake, so close - I almost let go of my whole situation, everything I know, everything of who I am. I can't believe it. It's not safe for me to be around him anymore, I really can't believe it, so close to friggin' losing it all. I can never let my composure slip like that again. Never again.
She wiped her face, and felt every sorry thought tumble through her mind, trying desperately to get a grip on herself, a grip on reality.
She really couldn't be the girl in the mirror anymore.
Who am I? she thought, as she finally drifted off to sleep a couple hours later, wondering about Tsunade-sama, and Sasuke, and Neji, and finally, herself. She was always the last of her priorities.
She was the opposite of everything she thought was the stereotype of herself, everything she desperately believed in. Of course, she didn't know it yet.
She hadn't the slightest.
A/N: This story, if finished, should be thirteen chapters long. This is probably riddled with spelling mistakes since I'm using NotePad (which doesn't have spellcheck!) because I lost my version of Word and my internet is too slow to download OpenOffice. So . . . it's SasuHina luurrrve people. I'll try update everyday - it's two days into the holidays and my social life is down the tube.
Review if you want, tell me how terrible I am.
:D
Some Sort of Deity (who's really, really tired).