Resurfacing in this site with an idea that I've been a defunct writer for months is so exciting (check out my other fics under user name ivybluesummers and see the notable differences) . The first chapter nearing and already in editing stages, but the style in general might be discomforting. Anyway. Standard disclaimers apply. Reviews/flames welcome, as always.
The Long Fall of Justice. Prologue
It was vaguely crescent; filling with faded reverberation outside as the moon rears itself dreamily like Hyuuga Hinata's when she woke up – a dry autumn nighttime, no stars, and she's cognizant of the solitude the room was radiating like the molten candle that lighted the space so faintly. Even from an absolutely breezy temperature she can hear the resonance of panic outside the mansion – and which makes everything else colder within the heiress. And footpaths come when she hastened herself, putting out the candlelight, doubting everyone but herself. She hears the elder next.
"Take the heiress out! Protect her at all costs!" The double-doors of her room open.
She listens to herself, "Wha– what... what is happening?" Weakly now and the candle ignites from the senior's grasp. It was the best her noble sight can do.
"Hinata-san... the village is at war,"
"At... war?"
"The Earth Country, as the Hokage predicted," utters a main branch member.
"Why?"
"It's a long story," Hiashi declares, and her arm is seized gently at touch, steering her body. "We have shut down power in the mansion to minimize possibilities of seeing you. You shall go at the escape route, leading you southern. Neji will be waiting, and he shall protect you then, and you'll come back when it's safe,"
"Fa-ther... what about Hanabi?"
His fingers hunt the right edges carefully even from absence of light – firm in resolve like his palms caressing the walls of the mansion's southern lobby; it all came dark-hued for everyone when the candlelight welcomed its death with a hand. Hyuuga Hiashi stood too firm for his own good. "You need not worry about things, Hinata," he sighs, "...concern yourself only with what you're supposed to do. Now go. Take this just in case,"
Eyes unyielding, veins too clear for Hinata's own byakugan; and he gives the cloth-shelled kit to the all-seeing lass. "And be sure to make it alive," he speaks, thrusting his daughter's shoulders forward – pushed at such egress which saved dozens of other descendants. Fear propagates with neighboring pretension and innocence from the welling tears, from the clashes of arsenals and from the dismantling of her soul, her clan and her village. With more hurdles, heaving breaths in sync with the deafening silence of the forest – Neji walks coolly from the shadow, and the breeze dances against his tresses, and his sleeves, too.
"Hinata-sama... you're safe now," he says, standing next to her. She stares at him. It wasn't from the moisture from the blades of grass touching her ankles, nor was it from the absolutely cold night – it wasn't even the skies when she looked up. The stars are glimmering, cerulean shades as backdrop for the platinum full moon. There was something edging such a conscious soul, something distressing that made it all wrong – in the distance, she can see the academy ablaze – with smog as significant as the pallid daytime clouds; it was such a sight for them both.
The sun was beginning to rise when she found out that her sister was already dead.
tbc.