Just Another Day
by thelastshanghai


Author's Note:

Fanfiction is meant to be an escape. Rather, any form of writing is supposed to be. Let all of your feelings out, succumb to the sadness, happiness, glee, agony, whatever emotion is coursing through your very veins. That is what I am doing today, so sorry if it is not of the topmost quality. The guy that I like rejected me, and Hinata is the character in Naruto that I relate to the most. We are so similar, it almost hurts. Either way, thank you, fanfictioners, for allowing me the oppurtunity to vent.


Here Hinata lies. Watch her sob, silent tears falling onto a soaked pillow, her breaths short and shuddering. Watch her crack, her fragile heart crumbling into nothingness. Watch her break into the little pieces that she never even knew she could break into. Wanting wasn't enough, it seemed. No matter how much you hope, your dreams and imagination just bite you in the fucking ass.

When Naruto didn't respond to her confession, Hinata deluded herself into thinking that it had something to do with the war. War is all-consuming, especially in the time area, so is it no wonder that Naruto couldn't respond? Hope springs eternal, eh, Hinata? But no matter how much you hope, your wishes and dreams will never be answered? Why? Cause you do not deserve it.


"Sakura, Sakura, come over here, Sakura!" A smiling pinkette walked over to a grinning Naruto. They were in the middle of Konoha's beautiful Senju Park. The birds were singing, the leaves were dancing to a lazy wind; all in all, it was quite a beautiful day.

Hinata was strolling through her favorite trail, humming her favorite tune. When she spotted Naruto, her heart skipped a beat. Oh, Naruto, will you ever learn how much Hinata loved you?

"Sakura, I know that the war just ended," Naruto began to fumble with his pocket, "And that you may say that it is too soon. But I'm an impulsive person," From the deep depths of Naruto's pocket, a black velvet box was procured. He got down on one knee. "Will you marry me?" Sakura smiled, and responded. But Hinata didn't care what Naruto said, or what Sakura said for that matter. Her heart was broken, and she ran away from the scene of her worst nightmare.


Now, here Hinata lays, drunken in agony. Hinata shifted into a slightly more comfortable position, her red eyes staring at the ceiling, but never really seeing the intricate web of stars and planets painted on the wall abover her.

What did Sakura have that Hinata did not? Sakura was exotic, that was for certain. Emerald green eyes with pink hair? Definitely something you don't see everyday. Hinata remembered when Sakura first came to Konoha's Ninja Academy.


Everyone stared. In awe. No, not really. In hatred. No, she wasn't holding a nine-tailed fox demon as a prisoner. In just pure, unadulterated, shock. Before the eyes of the young, aspiring ninja, was a little girl with pink hair. It wasn't died either; sometimes, you can just tell.

"Hello, my name is Sakura Haruno," the little girl mumbled, eyes boring into the tiled floor beneath her. Sakura Haruno, such an odd, yet fitting name for a queer child.

"I like to read, and play with my dolls," What an ordinary response. The students just continued to stare, some with gaping mouths.

"Thank you, Sakura," said an annoyed Iruka. These children shouldn't stare like this young girl was a three-headed mountain lion! Haven't their parents taught them manners? Sheesh...

"Pleased to m-m-meet y-y-you, S-s-sakura-san," stuttered a shy, blushing Hinata. Soon, the rest of the class followed suit.


Sure, Sakura had flawless skin, and shiny hair, but so did Hinata. Sakura was beautiful, you would have to be blind not to see that, but Hinata was certain that she was beautiful as well. Lavendar eyes and indigo hair don't make someone ordinary, do they? She had never seen anyone with lavendar eyes before, let alone long, indigo hair.

Not to mention, Sakura is no different on the inside than any other girl. Her personality is so...ordinary. She was just a fangirl specializing in screeching, hollering, and swooning. Another mass-produced Sasuke clone. Hinata knew by experience.


"W-w-what are you d-d-doing?" Hinata asked, frightened.

"You like Uchiha Sasuke, don't you?" Cruel green eyes narrowed in disgust, "Well, Hi-Na-Ta, you are going to have to fight me for him." Sakura kicked Hinata in the ribs. Ouch.

"I don't like Sasuke-san, though. He isn't the one I like," Hinata blushed, thinking of a certain blond haired jinchuriki. Sakura, of course, took this act of reddening the wrong way.

"How can you NOT like SASUKE-KUN? He's so hot, with his pale, ivory skin, and his silky black hair." Hearts began to form in Sakura's eyes. "He's so mysterious, with this aura of coolness that strikes your heart like a spear. How can you not like that?" Hinata swore that she heard someone say the EXACT same thing. Sheesh, these girls are mass-produced at a Twinkie Factory, she swears!


Hinata noticed how Naruto seemed to hate Sasuke, and the fangirls by extension, so she strived to be everything that they weren't.

Sakura was loud. Hinata was quiet.

Sakura was cruel. Hinata was nice.

Sakura was weak. No one seemed to know that Hinata was strong as well.

Nobody likes me.

What did Naruto see in Sakura? What did Sakura have that Hinata didn't? What made her, Hinata Hyuuga, the girl who risked her GOD DAMN LIFE for Naruto, inferior to a girl who merely is attracted to Naruto because of the attention he lavishes her with?

Why Naruto, why did you reject Hinata? Into the night, these cruel thoughts inundated her mind, mental anguish obvious in her tears.

What have she ever do wrong? What made Hinata so less desirable than Sakura? Hinata became stronger, in hopes that Naruto would notice her, she became more out-going, in hopes that Naruto would notice her, hell, she even GREW OUT HER HAIR, hoping that Naruto would see.

Why, Naruto, why was she never good enough? Hinata sobbed. She was never good enough. Never has been. Never will be. A failure, forever.

Hinata is tired of hoping. Tired of dreaming.

Dreaming is where he and I are together, but reality is much crueler. Because reality is never what you want it to be. Reality is what will never be. Reality is made of broken dreams. Reality is the reason for her agony.

Dear Agony, just let go of me. Suffer slowly, is this the way it's got to be?