Look, I know, I have other stories… but I wanna do a Naru/Hina!
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Naruto or any other recognizable names that may be mentioned in future. This applies to any and all other chapters I might add (if I do add any more).
Let me know if I should post this online of continue writing it in private for my own enjoyment.
I love Angus & Julia Stone!
-x-
Streamers. Splattered paint. Loud music. They were everywhere. Flickers and droplets of red and blue paint softly hit her cheek, streaking across her delicate features. It had to be the locally famous Akatsuki performance group. She pushed to the front of the quickly forming crowd and gasped in awe as paper butterflies were thrown inventively over the gathering of curious bystanders.
They seemed to catch flight for a moment, drifting along in the light afternoon air, before landing gracefully upon the heads of giggling children or colliding with the ground, soon to be scooped up by pudgy little hands. There was black tarpaulin sprawled across the ground, some pieces of the poorly cut material overlapping with others to create a sort of 2D stage. The music sped up and formed a jagged beat, indicating the beginning of the show.
A handsome man in a black top hat slowly emerged from the large Kombi van, a black cloak with defining red clouds adorned and flowing freely in the wind. A cluster of swooning girls sighed. Itachi was quite attractive, no?
But Hinata paid no attention to his facial features or toned body. She was far too interested in what was to come. Ever since the Akatsuki's first show six years earlier, she hadn't dared miss a single demonstration unless completely necessary. They had started out small, gradually progressing into a large group of the most talented artists in Konoha. She still remembered the first time her slender hands had caught one of the blue paper butterflies, admiring its craftsmanship and utter beauty. Her mother had always thought they were amazing, too.
She wanted to be them. To be part of them. But she wasn't special, she had nothing to display to the audience that was of interest. So she settled for supporting them with a fifty dollar note each fortnight – each fortnight that they performed – and dreaming of being something like them someday.
The word someday bothered her, though. Her mother used it all the time. She would rant about how someday, the two of them would visit Suna together, just the two of them. How they would someday start their own crafts store in the corner of a quaint little town square, where artists and enthusiasts alike would flock for all their supplies.
The someday that had never arrived.
Itachi placed the hat on the ground, where the audience was more than welcome to make donations to them. And they usually did, too, quite generously.
Itachi suddenly grasped the very edge of his coat, and quick as a flash, he had draped the black garment over his body and seemingly disappeared. Applause erupted through the crowd, some impressed whistles ringing in Hinata's ears. There were always one or two people who whistled. It annoyed her to no end, but it wasn't like she could just up and tell someone to shut up at a public show. She would never dream of being so rude, either.
She always waited until everyone else was gone to donate, in fear that someone might steal the gleaming bill. Some people were so desperate, it saddened her to think of them that way, but there was no being too careful in such a world anymore.
The show continued, where she watched a familiar trio of puppets dance with the real puppeteer standing in the middle. They danced like skeletons, making children squeal and coo with delight. Hinata stood to the side so some shorter toddlers could see, receiving mouthed thanks from their mother.
She looked frazzled and dazed. Nobody should have to be so tried simply due to caring for their children, but it seemed that was the price of conception. She would never have been such a burden to her own mother, but it was none of her business what other children did to their family. Nor did she have a right to judge them when they were had only reached such a tender age.
The puppets were dragged off stage by a giant Papier Mache bird. It was covered in strange patterns created by clay sculptures and a tub of glue, so it had to be the works of Deidara. Hinata was always struck with awe when she saw his gorgeous creations; it was a shame that at the end of each performance they exploded into an array of confetti, though everyone else seemed to love it. It was also a pain to clean.
Kakuzu, an older man with a series of barbed-wire tattoos all over his body, strutted out of the van, his black whips flailing all about. It was amazing what he could do, despite his somewhat scary appearance, with the way he twirled and twisted his whips like a gymnast that had trained for years with streamers. It was sort of unnerving to watch at the same time, especially his sinister grin. It was almost as if he was planning on whipping the innocent oglers at any moment, and Hinata always scolded herself for thinking of him that way. She hated it when people were judged for their appearances, though sometimes it was impossible not to do so.
Hidan was in charge of the lights. Hinata suspected that he didn't do anything else because that was all he was good at, feeling jealous that he got to work with amazing artists and not her. He never made constructive comments and was constantly putting everyone down, but he was the only one that ever agreed to cross-dressing, which apparently was useful. It pained her to think that if she had been born a male she might have had a chance at working with them. She never said this, though, for she had been taught not to speak such insolent things. Like her mother.
Kisame worked the music, like a DJ. And damn, was he good. He usually held little dance sessions near the end of the show, where randoms off the street could show off their dance moves to everyone there.
That was actually how Tobi had been discovered; he had suddenly appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, onto the platform two years before and displayed some of the most amazing and impressive dance moves Hinata had ever seen. He was also super friendly, if not a little obnoxious.
The rest of the team – Zetsu and Pein and usually Itachi – organised the details of their performance and got permission from the Mayor to use the park as their destination. They weren't actually permitted to create such a commotion in public without consent.
The show went on for another hour. Some people left halfway through, others arrived then. Not many left without donating something from their pockets. It was a good business for the Akatsuki. Time flew and Hinata suddenly found herself clapping and cheering, as the rest of the crowd dispersed to continue with their Wednesday afternoon appointments and engagements. Hinata, without waiting to be asked, started rolling up the tarpaulin with Hidan and Itachi once the majority of the crowd had disseminated. She slipped the fifty into the black top hat and carried it over to the van, but not before being stopped by a firm hand.
"What do you think you're doing in our van, little lady? Can't you read?" The man gestured to a sign stuck to the back window from the inside. The orange pirate curtains were drawn so that nobody could see inside.
'TRESPASSERS WILL HAVE THEIR MINDS BLOWN AND THEIR WALLETS STOLEN AMIDST THE CONFUSION', was what it said. It was personalized. Hidan's idea, of course.
When Hinata had first ventured to speak with one of the performers, Hidan had jumped out of the car with his skeleton mask on and said those exact words. Hinata had fallen unceremoniously onto her ass, summoning a severe bruise, and screamed her lungs out until they bled. When she finally calmed down enough to listen to what they had to say, she had found herself wrapped up in a blanket sipping hot chocolate with the group of performers she had admired for years. He had been forced to apologize profusely, though it was clearly not sincere. Never had she been able to look at him without remembering that day. Perhaps that was one of the reasons she disliked him, disregarding his vulgar language.
"That joke is a bit old now, you know," Hinata sighed quietly. She usually had a tendency to stutter, but once she was comfortable with someone, she could speak freely. It was getting quite dark outside, being six p.m. in winter, and Hinata shivered. Hidan mistook it for a sign she had been scared. As if she had needed any other drama that day after what happened earlier that afternoon.
It never snowed in Konoha. They had summers, they had winters, they had autumns they had springs. But never could you tell the difference between the seasons simply by looking at the scenery. The trees never changed color, only bronzing at the edges during autumn. Other than that, the temperature was all that ever indicated the time of year.
Hidan burst into laughter, stumbling into the back seat. Itachi rolled his eyes and took the hat from her, taking her wrist and pulling her into the colourfully and originally decorated van with a soft smile.
There was a tie-dyed rug lying on the floor, which was made from several old rockability jeans sewed together and cut to fit around the numerous chairs and beds inside. There was a corner scattered with beanbags and pillows, sitting beside a minifridge that seemed to never run out of candy and Mountain Dew. Towards the back was where all the technology – speakers, microphones, strobe lights and such – were stored, right beneath the beds in a pull out compartment.
It was actually made for clothes, but they didn't have too much of those anyway. They had this miraculous thing called a washing machine that made it possible for them to wear their clothing more than once without smelling gross, Zetsu had once joked. Plus Hidan didn't ever wear shirts.
There were glow-lights stuck to the roof, which had a skylight centred aloof on fluorescent cowboy stickers. Tobi's choice.
In the front, Pein had his guitar strapped into the passenger seat ready to entertain anyone that was prepared to listen they may run into. He and Konan were the only ones that actually slept in the van, but the others kept so much of their junk in the car that it was like a storage closet.
They were free spirited, happy and fun. Everything Hinata wished she could be.
"You okay?" a soft voice asked. Even though Konan was quiet and soft-spoken, she had a nagging habit of sneaking up on people, unintentionally, while they were deep in thought and startling the daylights out of them. Her favorite victim was Hinata.
Said victim found herself rubbing a sore spot on her head where she had hit it moments earlier after jumping with extreme force indoors. She apologized to Pein for the small dint in the roof that now made itself clearly known, but he just laughed.
"Another memoir," he smiled, turning back to tidy his guitar.
Pein didn't ever mind when people he liked left their mark on his little van. For some reason, whenever he really liked someone, he actually enjoyed it if they left something for him to remember them by.
"You never know when that person might be gone, and such amazing people… I always want something to remember them by, but you can't just ask something like that," was what he had told her the first time she tipped a can of Cola on the jean-carpet. It had come out surprisingly easily, presumably because the denim she had stained was darker and made from different fabrics than actual carpet, but it was still visible. Tobi had proceeded to get a permanent marker and write, with his oh-so-neat handwriting, italic Hinata.
She was touched that they appreciated her so much. He did the exact same thing once again where she left the dint in the ceiling, laughing like some sort of maniac.
Konan placed a gentle hand on Hinata's elbow. "Sweetie? Everything okay?"
Konan had always been like a mother to Hinata. Well, ever since her own passed away three months after she first saw the Akatsuki perform. The group of performers had fallen in love with the mother Hyuga instantly, welcoming her into the van without hesitation. She made her first mark then and there, one of her perfectly groomed nails scratching the cover of one of the seats.
That was why Hinata didn't ever feel guilty if she contributed slightly to the damage of the old, rickety vehicle. Ever since Hinata's mother went to Heaven, Konan promised to look after her.
And she kept that promise; from giving her 'the talk', to helping her with homework and shopping, Konan was always there. She spent so much of her time with Hinata that she knew the teen inside and out. Being fifteen could be hectic sometimes.
So she knew when something was bothering her.
"I'm fine," Hinata lied. She was very good at lying, though she said so herself, not that it was something to be proud of. It was very useful, though. Especially when one was trying to cover up the fact that they had nearly been arrested.
"You sure?" Konan pressed, determined to pursue the issue until every detail of it was leaked.
"Really, I am." Konan nodded hesitantly, absently checking her watch.
"Wow, look at that! Time has literally flown right over my head, we gotta get Hinata home now," she told Pein, who was lounging in the front seat while he tuned his guitar. It was probably already tuned to perfection, but he took some sort of joy out of tuning and retuning his 'baby', as he sometimes referred to 'her' as.
Sometimes Konan got a little annoyed that he paid more attention to his inanimate instrument than his wife of twenty years, but she was pretty laid back. She knew he loved her endlessly; he would never let her forget it. That was why they had been together for so long without so much as having the other sleep on the couch, Hinata often thought.
She also thought it was good to know true love still existed, and that there were decent guys still walking the Earth where the decent girls could find them. She considered herself one of those decent girls, her standards pretty high ever since seeing what her parents had been through.
Hinata didn't even notice when the van pulled out of its parking spot and started driving her home, passing numerous children strolling along with their parents. One of them waved at her. She smiled, and waved back.
"You know her?" Hidan wondered from the back seat.
He didn't understand what it meant to be polite. Deidara punched him in the arm and told him exactly that, too. They got into a sort of manly hugging fight, then got bored halfway through and started begging for some drive-thru ice-creams. Kisame and Tobi started chanting along, and Itachi said he would pay. Cheers and hollers could be heard by all the pedestrians as the orange Kombi – called Rinnegan – zoomed past. No doubt they all thought it was full of rowdy teenagers rather than adolescents and grown men (plus woman).
Oh yes, this was the life for Hinata. But her father disagreed.
-x-
Earlier that afternoon…
03/22/2011 – Under the willow tree. Again.
Dear my beloved notepad,
As of this moment, I have three favorite words. Others have favourite colors or numbers, but my love for words goes far beyond common fads and tricks used for gambling and such. I have three favourite words and they are my favorite for a reason.
The first: family. Always there for you when you need them. The only people you can rely on when everything sucks. I consider the Akatsuki family now.
The second: unfathomable. It rolls off the tongue so freely and casually, yet whenever I say it, my lips tingle and I get excited. I don't know why, it's just a cool word.
Three: love. Love, because it's the only word I cannot understand. Being an author (well, aspiring one, anyway), my vocabulary has expanded far beyond that of my peers. But still, I find it hard to write about romance or affection when I have never experienced it. I get what it's like to write about family love, but apparently nobody cares about that. If I want to be big, I'll have to expand my genres. Not everyone is into novels about school life, especially the clichéd ones with the super-hot popular guy and the geeky, perfect new girl. It is the only word that challenges me. Must learn meaning!
Until we converse again (A.K.A Tomorrow arvo (*)),
~ Hinata.
She flicked her wrist, flailing and shaking her hand around to stop it from cramping. Her hand always hurt when she wrote too much, mostly due to the odd way she held her pen. As if it were a crayon, she wrapped her petite fingers around its circular base and formed a fist-shape with her hand, the pen firmly gripped in the middle. It was a habit her father had been trying to permanently sojourn for far too long without any satisfactory results.
Resting her head against the trunk of her favorite willow tree – which she had named Yumi respectfully after her mother, meaning 'beauty' – she let the fresh open air fill her mind and soul with positive thoughts. The willow tree was where she reflected on the events of her day, and let her mind wander onto subjects that people could only have with themselves and greater forces.
She thought of the insignificance of everything on the Earth. How small they had to be compared to what lay watching over everyone in space.
She was at the local park, waiting for the Akatsuki to arrive so she could help them set up and prepare for the show. She always came hours early, so she had time for herself, packing a few cheese sandwiches and a drink bottle. A small dam with reeds and lily-pads floating gracefully across its surface sat directly in her line of vision, giving her eyes something nice to look at while she let her mind take over.
She loved thinking – it was her favorite thing to do, only she preferred to think of more philosophical things than mathematics and her future and education. Her future, to her, was too far away to fully see through smog which blinded her vision, other than writing. It was all she was good at. She didn't know what she wanted to be, though she knew what she loved – writing and reading. But not many authors ever made it in the world. She needed a backup plan.
What could her backup plan be? She didn't know.
She had been told she was pretty. Perhaps she could marry a nice, wealthy man that respected her and have children that grew to be more successful than she ever did.
Yeah right, like her father would settle for anything less than perfect. And she didn't want to rely on her husband, either. Independence was attractive and fulfilling, she often reminded herself.
She sighed, tucking a stray hair behind her abnormally small ear with a dainty finger pointing in the air. Force of habit, she wasn't trying to be fancy. She was just being herself, which she never actually got a chance to do unless she was alone or with her best friends.
She suddenly heard someone scream. It wasn't a terrified scream; it was a playful, whiny scream. It was a teenage girl. That meant school was out…
How strange. It felt as if they had been released earlier than usual today. What with her being home-schooled, she usually lost track of the morning hours since she could find all her work waiting in a neat folder on her family PC. She didn't have much work on Wednesdays, since her father was working and Neji was busy with swimming practice with his team until later that night.
If she didn't move soon she would be bombarded by flocks of flamboyant, cheery, hyperactive teens that only seemed to care about their mobile phones and iPod's. She rolled her eyes, packed up her scattered belongings and notes into a sling bag she took with her everywhere, and dusted off the back of her jeans with a floppy hand once she was steady on her feet. No use staying around. She felt lightheaded for a few moments, and had to lean on the tree once her hand was free.
As she wiped her bottom with her free hand to get rid of excess dirt, she noticed the time displayed on her watch. It was only twelve p.m. Okay, so she often lost track of time. But her watch was never wrong, ever. Her cousin, Neji, made sure of that. So was it possible her perceptive hearing had been betrayed? Perhaps someone else that was already out of school was screaming like an idiot.
"Na na na na na, you can't catch me!" Wait, was that a girl? Or just a really high-pitched boy?
A siren disrupted her thoughts. Police? That couldn't be good. If she didn't get going soon and word spread that someone was arrested nearby Hinata, and that she hadn't fled the scene immediately, she could get into trouble. That Tsunade was such a jabber-jaws, no doubt Hiashi, her father, would hear of this soon.
Hinata was just about to head towards her car when a blond boy with spiky hair and an orange jumpsuit appeared around the corner of the public bathrooms. He was running. Fast. And I mean, lightning fast. Plus, he was heading straight for her.
She squeaked, jumping onto a park bench so as not to get caught in his red-hot trail and possibly lose a limb. A shooting pain ran through her ankle, indicating she had landed wrong.
He was moving so recklessly, he looked like an orange blur. The only thing that defined him as human was his childish ranting: "Come and get me, coppers!" or "Eat my dust, freeloaders!"
Her heart rate sped up far more than what she considered comfortable. The blond boy was all of a sudden out of sight, and the police were scanning the area frantically like lost puppies. They seemed to give up after a few minutes, mumbling grouchily and panting heavily into a walkie-talkie that hung loosely from their utility belts. After a few moments, one of the men noticed the frozen teenager stuck like glue to the nearby bench.
"Hey, you! Arnie, it's another kid ditching school."
Hinata gulped. This would not end well.
-x-
(*) Arvo = Australian slang for afternoon.
Phew, was that too long? I was about to keep going then I realised how long it was already, he he.
Erg, yep. That's the beginning. So, tell me what you think, this was meant to be a little prologue to tell you what's going on (kinda) so tell me what you think.
What you think means you can tell me if this is the crappiest fic you've ever read and if I shouldn't ever post any more chapters to anything at all including this fic, I'm open to all opinions.