Edit: 8/30/2012
Here's the drill: Enjoy or press the red "x" on the top right hand corner. Or press back.
Naruto isn't mine.
When one thinks of purple, one might think of serenity, calmness, and royalty. But to Hinata, the color purple was like a smack in the face. It reminded her of her constant failures; of how she couldn't live up to her father's expectations. She didn't possess the qualities one should have when one was a heiress. She wasn't calm and she certainly wasn't bold either. She was always cursing her ability to talk to others. Her voice didn't hold the authority and conviction of a princess. After all, her clan has been here for centuries. She's weak. She envies her young sister, Hanabi, who is bold and talented—who in her father's eyes—should have been the first born.
To Hinata, the color purple mocked and laughed at her—deeming her as unworthy and insignificant. And as she grew older and older, she began to understand that this was who she was and there was nothing she could do about it. So she drew a shell around her, making her invisible from eyes that would only look for her flaws. And she succeeded until she got home. With her father around, she had to step out from her shell. His white eyes—with that hint of dreaded purple—seemed to look into her very soul. Saying that no matter what she did, she couldn't hide the truth. But somewhere deep inside, she wanted to be herself. She didn't want to try to be something she's not.
She'll get stronger using her own methods.