Six Years

Yesterday. It was yesterday. Unfortunately for me, it still feels like today. I am no one and someone – it all depends on who you ask. To myself, I am merely a vessel. To my husband, I am his wife. To my husband's mistress, I am her enemy. Or at least I hope the little whore sees me as her enemy. I may be a civilian Hyuuga, but I am a threat. It is fitting after all – but I digress. I am Hyuuga Hiyori.

Yesterday was the wedding – my wedding. And who might my groom be? At that time, I didn't know. It was a sudden engagement – a brief one – and then I was at the temple, saying my vows and bowing to my new in-laws. I wanted to get a glimpse of my groom, but couldn't. The veil was too thick to see through, my head was too heavy to lift, and my eyes were too weak to meet his eyes. I still feel this way. But now I know who he is. He is Hyuuga Hiashi, the heir to our prestigious clan. Should I be happy?

Last night, he climbed down from the roofs of our home and snuck into his own quarters across the hall. He had done it with grace and practice – I bet even without the Byakugan he would manage this nightly feat without trouble. I heard him and I was sure he had noticed that I was still awake, but didn't bother to enter my room or slip into my bed. He didn't have to; his needs had already been sated by another. I couldn't help but be a little relieved and disappointed. We are not a family, I am not truly married, but it doesn't matter. By name, I am his. I should accept him any time it pleases him. In reality, I do not take sloppy seconds. And he doesn't need me. I am Hyuuga. Ever since our first night as man and woman, I have only been able to salvage precious moments in his presence. He disappears every night. His brother, a happily married man, merely looks away sadly when he sees me. Tell me mirror, do I look dejected?

This morning, I had tea with my uncle – the man who had arranged my marriage to our clan's heir. It has been six months and I have nothing to show for it. My marriage is already starting to resemble a broken one. I was too ashamed, but I finally admitted that he hadn't touched me since the wedding six months ago. I was dismissed soon after my admission. When will I have a family? Is my pride stopping me from having a child?

This time, it is my mother-in-law who asks after my health. I admit she is a frightening woman and the head of the clan. She's ruthless in her dealings with her family and outsiders. Being her daughter-in-law doesn't protect me. She is anxious for grandchildren, thusly, she finds me a disappointment. It has been nine months, if I was a good daughter, I would be heavy with child by now – or already a mother. She doesn't realize I am just as desperate for a child – or at least a night with my husband. Her baleful pale eyes caress my stomach: flat as a washboard. Do I have to beg for him to touch me – his own wife?

I am tired. Two hours ago, my nephew was born. A healthy, loud little boy named Neji. I am tired of the stares, the accusations flung at me from behind the screens. I want to shout; it is not my fault, but his! His and his whore's. But I know I won't get any sympathy either way. I must redeem myself. I must have a child. My husband has his mistress, I have no one. I have no family. I am beyond pride. I will kneel at his feet, slip him an aphrodisiac, and lie naked in his bed for as long as it takes. I want a family. My own mother suggests a lover. Have I fallen so low as to commit adultery?

Yes.

My husband doesn't as much as blink as I announce that I have missed my cycle. He knows it isn't his, for he hasn't touched my in over a year, but he merely blinks and nod. My mother-in-law is thrilled and orders a new kimono for me. Later that night, I confront him. It is the first time I had ever stepped into his bedroom when he is present. I ask him why he hadn't said anything, and he tells me, she is pregnant as well. She is pregnant. My, how the pieces fit together so perfectly. I will be a mother to fraternal twins.

The sun showed her to me - the woman who has captured my husband's attention for so long. I was out in the village, browsing at the wares with a handful of servants to accompany me. It was a fairly overcast day, but the sun broke out from beyond the clouds to glare in my eyes, willing me to turn around. I immediately saw her, and knew exactly who she was. Rationality calls me, tells me that she couldn't be the only pregnant woman in the village – but I was not swayed. She was lean, wild, and dangerous even if she was pregnant. I saw nothing in her that I could relate to. She stole my husband, my family. I can't hate her, for some odd reason. Is something wrong with me?

I vow never to take a step out of the compound until my child is safely born. Lest, I run into her again.

He bled to death in December while she cried out, taking her first breath. Hinata. My son died while her daughter lives. I can't hate her, this kunoichi, but I can definitely hate her daughter. Hinata stole the breath of my son, Hideki. Just like how her mother stole the breath of my husband. Soon, I will die too. I can feel it. I told no one this, but the woman had the gall to thank me. She wanted to thank me for taking in her child (as if Hiashi would let me refuse). She was a kunoichi, a high ranking one, and couldn't take the risk of being inactive for long. I merely nodded and accepted the pink bundle from her; the Amazon. I look down at the quiet child, Hinata, I hate you. That blasted woman has managed to sneak a part of her into my family. Will I ever win?

They wanted a male heir. I find this rather hypocritical since my mother-in-law has controlled this clan for several decades with a thinly padded iron first and proved to be a magnificent ruler. Nevertheless, they are not pleased. It is my fault. If only my son lived. I am a weak, domesticated woman. It is only fitting that my son was too weak to withstand the chill winter; unlike the Amazon's daughter. I wonder…what is her name?

Hinata has deep violet hair. My husband and I both have dark brown hair. Fortunately, she has the Byakugan; otherwise I would be accused of adultery. It is unfair, how I am always taking the blame for things that are not in my power. She is eight months old, and I can tell that she is not fierce like her mother. She will be weak, probably because I coddle her purposely. I am pleased. I am ruining her under the guise of love. I take this pearl of knowledge and embrace it. I long for a child of my own. This child will be everything and ten times as powerful as that Amazon.

Today is her second birthday. I finally see that Amazon woman again. My husband had invited her to Hinata's party. She is Hinata's godmother (many of the elders protested at having an outsider responsible for the heir – but Hiashi had his way). She comes bearing a broad grin, a box of dulled kunai, and a cloak of rambunctious energy surrounding her. She is Hiashi's former teammate, and she was introduced as such – but I know better. Today, I learned her name. She is Anko, Mitarashi Anko. She is named after sweets, but she speaks poisonous words and each inflection of her voice promises much pain and pleasure – but for whom?

Tonight, I will have my child. I have been married for five years, and I do not have one child of my own flesh and blood to show for it. He is home for Anko is out on a mission, a high ranking one, I presume. He is worried about her, and I will serve as the distraction. My mother-in-law has made sure we will be undisturbed. Hinata is with her at the moment. I will have my child. I am not offended when he moans Anko's name, not mine.

"Congratulations." It was said easily, almost as if I wasn't carrying her lover's child. Surely she realizes that as soon as this child is born, Hiashi will be required to spend more time at home, at my side? I will have my own family, and she will have no one once more? She is an orphan, my contacts had told me. I thank her with a smile, and ask if she would like another cup of tea.

It was my seventh time asking her and Anko was on her sixth cup. The amused look she shot me tells me that she can sense my anxiety. Most mistresses do not make a habit of visiting the neglected wives of their lovers or congratulate them. In terms of shinobi, it would be like helping a wounded enemy up on their feet. I am her enemy – it hurts to know she doesn't see me as much of a threat.

When my handmaid had told me who had come calling earlier this afternoon, I had half a mind to turn her away, feign sickness or sleep, but I was curious. She now sits calmly opposite me with little four years old, Hinata at my side. Oddly enough, Hinata is scared of her own mother. Anko does not infer that it is under my influence that her daughter is so weak. Instead, she beams wildly, "I'm dangerous. It's a good thing she knows to stay away from dangerous people." She doesn't even have to say it, she knows that Hinata will be admitted to the Academy sooner or later and join her in the ranks of kunoichi.

"Do you know why I am here?" She asks after taking a sip of her eighth cup. Hinata has finally moved on to play outside in the garden, and allowing us free speech and privacy. I shake my head but do not say anything lest she decides on withholding the information. I pray she'll tell me and get out. It was bad enough that she has invaded my home, but to waste my time is unacceptable. Here, she frowns slightly, "That bastard wanted us to get along. I don't know about you, but he must be really simpleminded. I'd rather not see you all the time, and I know you'd rather not have me here in your home."

I say nothing even though I should protest. That bastard, indeed.

The visits continued. Over the course of my pregnancy, I have gotten used to Anko, as did Hinata. She'll amuse me with her anecdotes, her missions, humiliating scenarios Hiashi had been caught doing (under her direction, of course). I wonder how she can control him so freely when I have always been taught that the man is in charge. Fittingly, Hiashi is often the topic of our conversations when we are truly in private. I long to hear of his life, outside of the compound, and she longs to hear of his life inside the compound, amongst his own kind.

"Why do you come here?" I ask one day. It was her seventh visit to the estate this month – always when Hiashi is elsewhere. Although I am used to her company, I am not always happy with our situation. Why does she obey him when he is so clearly wrapped around his finger? I wince, and not because of the lack of manners and control over my emotions. It was something else entirely.

Calmly, she puts down her tea cup. Anko smiles grimly at me when I wince as a wave of pain crashes onto me. "For this moment." She gets up and calls for a maid.

Hanabi was born twelve hours later. Not a male, but my very own flesh and blood.

A week passes, and then another. I wait patiently each afternoon, yet I do not have Mitarashi Anko at in my rooms, drinking my tea, talking to me. I miss those afternoons and Hinata seems to miss her mother. I also notice that my husband is home more often than not.

When I comment on this – this absence of the invader that somehow had not been invading – to my husband, he merely sighs wearily and says, "I have a family now." With you.

Not with Mitarashi Anko, I smirk into my tea cup. After six years of marriage, I am finally married. I know I am selfish and if I was a sentimentalist I would insist he should have Anko in his life as well – but I'm not. He is finally mine but if given the choice, he would be Anko's. Finally order has returned to the Hyuuga household. I am his wife, and he returned to me, my home, and my bed each day.

Mitarashi Anko is no one. I will my memories of the Amazon woman away.

MissMadameMina: I know, I know, I should really be finishing my other stories! I'll get on it promise!