A/N: I do not own Naruto.
Hello! I am sorry for the delay.
If you would, please be gentle and courteous in your comments because these days are becoming hard and exhausting for everyone. A little bit of respect and thoughtfulness would really help me to produce chapters for this story that I love. Writing fanfic chapters will always be more challenging than reading them.
Meanwhile, I want to thank you all for your supporting me and reading my work. I dearly appreciate it and I will do my best with the story development, description, and timely upload. I have been very sick and suffering from depression, so your encouragement means everything. I am really amazed by this community. Thank you. I am sorry if my chapter isn't so great... this was the best I could come up with.
Thank you so much! Sending so much love. I hope you are safe and happy during this difficult time.
It was one of those evenings when Kakashi was teaching Sasuke. This time, the lesson was on the history and politics of Attica, the kingdom of Odysseus.
Smiling to herself at the familiar details, Hinata would be sewing by the table while the lesson took place. She always loved reading the scrolls about the wisest king who won a pivotal role in the Trojan war and was stranded in the seas because he earned the wrath of Poseidon. She glanced at Sasuke, but he did not seem too keen about his lessons.
The three leaned toward the solitary burning lamp, and even the silver haired tutor was being tolerant of her as long as she kept to herself.
Hinata glanced to see both men's faces by the little flickering candlelight. From the look of chagrin on his face, Sasuke was bristling with frustration. The frowning eyebrows on the tutor's face also showed his growing irritation at his pupil. She kept quiet, as she watched both from the corner of her eye.
It was usual for Kakashi and Sasuke to be tense during their lessons, but this kind of tension was new.
The tutor let out a deep sigh and swept his hair backwards in frustration, "Could you just even pretend that you're listening?"
Sasuke released a small snarl as he glared at him back, "I don't understand why I have to concentrate on something that I don't need for the rest of my life."
Kakashi scoffed under his breath, "I can't believe this."
Then the silver haired man mused for a couple of moments and then his eye flicked over to the woman who cringed at his glare.
"Leuke san, you have belonged to-," at her paled face, he quickly revoked his cruel words, "you have worked with aristocrats, haven't you?"
Hinata asked Sasuke to keep her name a secret.
Surprised and apprehensive as to where this was going, she dropped her needle and fabric to her lap, "Ye-yes."
Sasuke crossed his arms and his ebony eyes flicked from Kakashi to Hinata. His strong jaw clenched and he seemed distrustful of Kakashi who continued his strange questions.
"You know how to read and write, which is highly unusual and rare for a female slave. A male slave, maybe. To be used as a secretary or a scribe."
Hinata waited on baited breath for him to get to his point.
Kakashi asked the unthinkable, "Have you worked with the gentlemen closely?"
At the insulting implication, Hinata felt her lips stiffen and eyes burn in shame and anger. Sasuke rose from his seat, "You, son of a-"
Realizing his blunder, Kakashi shook his hands, "No, no-I didn't mean it that way! I meant, did she have a chance to see the male aristocrats at work!"
Hinata thought about this and concluded that she knew enough about aristocrats in Knossos to say yes. Sasuke calmed down, sitting back, but his fists were still clenched, resting on the table.
Kakashi gripped the edge of his chair and splayed his other hand on the table, "Then you must have seen many young men, even boys who are younger than this meathead who is well above him in learning." He pointed an accusing finger at Sasuke who scowled. But she also saw how Sasuke was keeping an eye on her, as he was curious about what she would say.
Hinata could not hide her apprehension and dilemma at this point. For her to say 'no' meant that she was encouraging Sasuke's rebelliousness against his teacher and hindering his progress in learning. As someone who was rigorously educated by the greatest masters, she silently agreed with Kakashi's point that Sasuke had much to catch up with. For his talents, Sasuke showed lack of motivation. She was often struck by how quick and clever he was and how easily he grasped difficult concepts and excelled in rote memorization. But what kept him from excelling in his studies was his inability to see the utility of this academic discipline. But for her to say 'yes' meant indirectly insulting Sasuke.
She tried to feign ignorance, "I-I'm not sure-"
Kakashi rubbed his temple in irritation, "Please just say yes or no." The way he looked at her almost seemed to be pleading. He seemed at ends of patience with Sasuke's defiance.
Hinata decided that she should finally be honest, "M-most adolescents have passed knowing Attica and other kingdoms..."
Sasuke's head snapped over to her, unable to believe what he had just heard. Not shocked by the fact about the aristocrats' academic progress, but by the fact that Hinata quietly sided with Kakashi against him.
When Kakashi saw his success at leashing Sasuke's attention, he almost clapped his hands in excitement.
"Leuke san," he said in a softer, wheedling tone, "how would you feel if your husband does not know was much as a blue blooded thirteen year old? Wouldn't that be a shame?"
"Leuke doesn't care about those kind of stuff," Sasuke said pointedly, but his eyes nervously flicked to Hinata. At his words, her dimpled smile dropped and her eyes looked hurt, which took him aback.
She bowed her head, her long hair hiding her profile from the men's gaze. She could not lie, but admit that she valued learning greatly. Intelligence was what she deemed very attractive. She thought that was the only saving grace of the nobility and royalty that she escaped from. Learning was the sole beacon of light in the dark bowels of hell that was called Knossos. And she knew that Sasuke was exceptionally bright. It would be a shame if he gave up on his studies.
When she did not verbally agree with him, Sasuke paled and for the first time she had seen, he seemed at lost of words.
"Did you tell your lovely wife that you can't spell?"
"I could!" Sasuke looked as if he was going to rip Kakashi's head off, "just sometimes...I make mistakes." He glanced to a side and grumbled.
Kakashi seemed to be the only one at glee, "Leuke san, he did not even read *."
Hinata's head whipped to Sasuke. She looked at him in genuine disbelief. She asked softly, "You-you did not read that?"
"I-it's" Shame made his face flush with red. Then he barked at her, causing her to flinch slightly, "Well, what if I will never read *? Are you going to think less of me? Leave me or ask for a divorce?"
She said softly, looking at him in his eyes, "I-I would not do that." But her opalescent eyes slid shut as she pursed her lips, "but..."
She could not continue her words, as she gazed down at her needlework at her lap. To her and people of her background, * was the most rudimentary classic. She did not know that Sasuke lacked so much interest in learning. Kakashi was a skilled teacher and he had opportunities that were not available to the masses. She could not help but feel a slight disappointment at the unexpected reality about her husband's personality and what she could not help but perceive as "laziness."
Sasuke looked down at her, his mouth parted slightly in shock at his wife's silence. She just quietly bowed her head and fumbled with her little fabric. His dark eyes widened and his lips paled.
Kakashi seemed to draw sadistic amusement from this quiet fiasco he created, "Leuke san, would you prefer Sasuke bald with a pot belly or ignorant and foolish?"
"Enough!" Sasuke sat down on the table grudgingly. He shot back at Kakashi and made him the object of his venomous resentment, "Continue. Aren't you going to continue? Why are you wasting your time?"
Kakashi's eye became crescent-shaped and they continued their lesson. Sasuke was still fuming silently, but he was more attentive and focused.
By the time, Hinata was finished with her evening needlework, Kakashi has already left. Sasuke was sitting by the table, still reading.
As she got ready for bed, she went behind Sasuke and peered over his shoulder.
She smiled to see what he was reading. She gently placed her hand on his right shoulder, and Sasuke started. He glanced up at her and for the first time, instead of reciprocating her caress, he turned his face away from her. But she saw the shell of his eye turn pink by the flickering light.
When she was about to remove her hand, she felt a firm grip.
She stopped and looked at him. He was still facing forward instead of her, but the grip on her hand told her he had something important to say.
"Hinata, about the time I mentioned divorce...you know that I didn't mean it, right?"
Her eyes widened. She hardly even thought about it. He continued in a tone of regret.
" Sometimes I get all hot in the head and I say things I don't mean..."
The grip on her hand tightened. The rich mass of dark hair fell over his eyes as he lowered his gaze to the table.
"I might not be rich or be the smartest man you have seen, but...I will try my best so you won't be ashamed and...I will provide you the best I can."
Her eyes widened as she noticed the plea in his voice.
"So..."
There he was, quietly begging in a way that almost grazed his pride.
He adjusted his grip so he could hold her entire hand. Seeing his dissipating confidence made something in Hinata's chest drop.
She approached him quickly and rested both of her hands on his shoulders,
"Sa-Sasuke, pl-please don't say such things."
He looked up at her in surprise. Her eyes shone in concern for him. A piece of Hinata's heart broke at the tender, vulnerable way his dark eyes looked up to her.
"I-I may have seen great lords and their young sons, but none of them have anything like your spirit, Sasuke."
When he turned his face away, assuming that she was just trying to comfort him, she persisted,
"Their greatest meaning of life is to follow the steps of their forefathers. They study, play, marry, work, live, breathe the way that was chosen for them. But they believe to be superior and think they can reign above others with their right. They are vain, self-absorbed, insensitive and many can be stupid and cruel."
She gently lifted his chin up to face her. Her voice carried the weight of sadness but also strength.
"But you are so kind. Men who have more are hardly half as generous."
His dark eyes widened in surprise at the intense look of her face. She looked down at him seriously, but there was an undeniable sadness in her voice, "you chose your life for yourself. That is both a virtue and a possession. You have always been proud and independent."
A silhouette of a boy full of asperity and simmering hatred manifested in her mind. She almost teared up at the recollection.
Sasuke had something that she always wanted herself to have but was never brave enough to show. Every time she tried to hold her head high, adversity struck a swift blow and she fell on her knees, pleading for mercy. The best she could do was run away. Even someone who possessed inner strength like Hanabi refused to stay, saying that Cretes was a lost cause. It would break her heart if Sasuke lost that treasure inside. "So please don't make me the reason for you to change."
Silence fell between the two. The firelight on the wick of the candle danced lightly as a soft breeze entered the hut.
Now, Sasuke was facing her on his chair, still holding her hand and looking up to her. He looked stable now, as his dark beautiful eyes showed his usual calmness and self-assurance. When she saw that he returned to his proud but gentle self, she smiled in relief and gratification and turned to go to bed.
"Good night, Sasuke-"
But she halted in her steps when she felt the tight grip on her hand. When she was about to turn, she felt a strong arm wrap around her waist and her back pressed close to a firm chest.
She did not know what to do at the sudden embrace or the warm breath that swayed her side fringes or the strong and even beating of a heart that she felt behind her.
She turned slightly, "Sasuke?"
His arms tightened around her and he buried his face on her shoulder. His dark, luxurious hair fell across her shoulder as he mumbled out her name.
She waited, but all she could feel was the increasing heat of his face on her shoulder. Then his face rolled to the side, and she saw his large dark eyes glance at her. He blinked and the long eyelashes brushed pass his pale skin before opening and gazed at her sideways expectantly. She felt her breath hitch to her throat. It seemed as if the gods carved out his face.
The silence and his intense stare made her start inwardly. I wonder what he might want this time...
She began to ponder whether this was the timing she had to kiss and he was eagerly expecting one.
She closed her eyes and leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.
When she opened her eyes after the brief kiss, he buried her further into his arms and he looked down at the floor.
There was a glow to his face as he made a rare smile, as if his entire being was alight.
When she wondered what could have made her husband so happy about such a small peck, he said,
"This was the first time you ever initiated anything to me," he murmured happily, as if he was speaking to himself.
His words made her speechless. She did not remember the last time someone was so happy because of what she did. She did not remember ever making anyone happy. When she lived as a priestess, she listened to those who came to her for counsel, blessings, or purification of their sufferings. Most of them left as soon as they were done with their business, and many of them cried because they just suffered too much. She never expected that her role was going to be a happy one. Gods were barely visited for happy reasons. But here, there was a man who looked as if he earned the world just because she gave him a little kiss.
Suddenly, that made Hinata feel a little sad and crestfallen inside. She wished that she could have done more for him, if only she knew that he would be so exuberant over such a small thing that she did at the spur of a moment, because she made a quick judgment.
"Hinata," he wound his arms around her shoulders and pressed her tightly to himself. She felt his face radiating a bunch of heat next to her ear. He took some time, and she waited patiently.
He stammered, "I-I'll finish reading and then we could go to the village again for the end-of-summer dance."
She looked surprised, and he became uncharacteristically flustered as he continued to speak in a rush of words, "I usually don't go to events like those, but I think you'll like it."
When she saw how much courage it took him, she finally smiled.
She carefully wrapped her hand around his and said without a stammer, "I would love to."
He looked down at her for a moment and continued kissing her until she was breathless.
When Sasuke went to work early in the morning, Hinata stayed home and kept the house tidy. Despite what seemed to be an unattainable feat at first, she finally mastered the art of making the house at least a inhabitable space. She was both relieved and proud of her tiny accomplishment.
Hinata went to her secret place where she hid her diary. Her daily record was only a stack of tree barks she carved letters onto with a stencil because parchment and paper were too expensive.
Although Kakashi seemed to be warming up to her, it was only an acknowledgement of her presence, not any sense of camaraderie or friendship. She even asked Sasuke to only keep her real name to himself.
She would never ask Kakashi for anything other then his tolerance.
The secret place where she hid her diary was a gaping hole of a big oak tree that was on her way to the peak of the mountain where she watched the bonfire tower.
If there was a smoke rising from the bonfire tower, it meant that there was a dire emergency.
The emergency could range from the palace's awareness of her disappearance or Neji being in danger or harm.
When the sky was clear and there was no smoke, she would feel the tension that gripped her dissipate and she would go down the mountain.
After navigating the curves of the forest, she would find her old oak tree and push her hand into the crevice and pull out her diary and start writing about her day.
But this time, after continuing her usual routine of watching the tower, she went down to retrieve her diary without the desire to write. She retrieved it so that she could destroy it.
She thought, it feels wrong to keep the diary after what progressed between me and Sasuke.
Even she was aware that her feelings with Sasuke have undergone a significant change. Keeping the diary felt as if she was keeping a secret from him.
She felt the guilt gnawing at her at the thought of Sasuke finding out her thoughts.
It was not just any diary that recorded daily occurrences. It contained her heart at the moment when she struggled to make the transition from Knossos to Threspotia. She divulged the greatest secrets of her heart there.
She took the tree barks to a nearby brook to submerge them in the cool water.
She decided that she would peruse over her diary one last time before she destroyed it.
Once I read that the birth of a person truly starts from remembering a face. That face becomes a building foundation to the life the person will construct.That face becomes the cornerstone to the person's existence, a guiding compass of every relationship and experience she will garner, the sour and the wholesome pieces that make up life. Usually, according to the scholar, the face belongs to a mother, but it does not matter as it depends on how a person's sense of self started to form.
When I first read that scroll, I began to believe that life could be quite unfair. Not all could be born out a place of warmth. To those born in impoverishment, that image of a face could evoke loneliness, coldness, and deprivation. Even violence. Kaguya, help those whose "face" is that of despair.
Many had worse than me, but the weakness in me cannot help but interpret my own life through that imagery of the"face."
It was not my mother's face that made its indelible mark in my mind. She might have loved me, but sadly I do not remember receiving my mother's love.
The mother I remembered did not know whether to settle between her love for me, her guilt for giving birth to me as a girl, and her resentment that I did not turn out to be a boy caused her inhumane misery.
I have forgiven my poor mother now, for I see that she was simply a woman subject to hapless fate, to the inner workings of the palace. I do not resent her, poor woman, I hope she has finally found peace at least in death.
If it was not for my father's final days, he would have remained a face of sheer terror. To this day, I do not know whether I could forgive him, whether it is within my limited capacity to forgive. To the best of my ability, I try to free both myself and my father through forgetting about my past.
I wish Hanabi would remember me as the face that she would keep in her heart. As much as I love her, as much as a mother would love her child, sadly I have grown up too much, perhaps seen too much to have made Hanabi's dear face the guide of my life. By the time, I met my sister, I had too much of me, to have made a blank slate for my sister to be my world. I was too much of myself, if it made any sense.
The man, my savior I have begotten the luck to call my husband, asks me questions related to my previous life. At times he asks me questions, he almost looks like a child. He is such a beautiful man, inside out and I would do anything to make him happy. I am glad that my cooking is becoming a bit more tolerable. I want to do so much more for Sasuke. But I do not have it in my heart-the necessary courage to expose the part of my past. It almost feels like a lie to tell him about my past without mentioning Neji, so I purposely skirt around the subject. I tell myself that I will give Sasuke the time, every bit that makes me, the body, the care, and everything to make him content with his choice to marry me.
But I could not talk to him about him. His name is a thorn that I carry close to my chest.
I am rambling. Back to the "face."
I do have a "face" that became my world, my lens, before I was I, when I was a blank space. That face quickly filled up the blank space that was me, became me, and before I knew, he became I and I, him.
Like a chick that met its mother hen, the sight of his face immediately made its mark in my head. His face became the imprint on which I build my world, the person I became.
The four year old child whose grey eyes were wide and so open to the world was too little to even barely form an idea of who he was. So small, so little that he could fit the palm of my hand now if I could hold him.
I do not remember how much time it took for that boy with long brown hair to become my "face."
But when his dimpled palm was open to me, he said "hello," greeted me, for the first time I remember emerging from behind my father's shadows to step toward someone. I came with my own "hello."
He called me his master, but he will never know how he pushed my blankness away and filled me with himself and made me. He made me, and the fact that he was me before I even began to know myself-that I will never see that boy again-
Every night when I dream, I dream of being in front of a big wall. It is old, the bricks have long yellowed, and I see myself running my fingers across the wall.
The fissure of the wall makes a lightning shaped breach. But the breach is not enough for me to look through the cracks.
Just who is beyond that wall? Is there even anybody beyond that wall waiting for me? Is it foolishness to envision that somebody is looking for me beyond that wall, because I keep thinking that there is meant to be somebody.
Why do I feel so alone when I see that yellowing brick wall clustered with dark ivy?
She wrote these when she kept having dreams of a monumental wall surrounding her path. She remembered the thrill and fear at the thought of someone beyond the wall.
After dunking the tree barks into the water, she watched the tree bark being chipped away. The written letters disappeared until they were just splinters.
She told herself, I am Sasuke's wife now. I have no business with the 'face.' I should never think of him again.
At the thought, for some reason, tears welled to her eyes and she quickly wiped them away with the back of her arm.
She suddenly felt as if there was a hole in her chest. She rummaged for something she always carried with her in her underclothes.
It was a piece of bed covering she tore from her room when she thought she was with child.
She looked down at the fabric for a moment, and she felt choked. It felt foolish to be mourning over something she never lost, never even had at first place.
She dunk the fabric into the water too, watching it being sullied by the mud and debris underneath the brook.
She told herself, this was it.
The metallic smell of blood accompanied the sensation of running his face against a wall.
Blood dropped on the floor, the viscosity and darkness being like ink. His closest subordinate, a branch Hyuuga, rushed to his chamber and stayed stunned but wisely shut his mouth, not asking what was the cause of the king's self-inflicted violence. Neji paid no mind to the cut on his hand or his blood dropping to the floor.
His pale eyes hardened as he stared off in a distance, a scowl set on his eyebrows. It has been three days he scouted the feudal lord's residence and the village. The mayor of Threspotia was the last person on his list who supported Hinata's candidacy to the throne before his reign.
However, the only people she could go to for help were the main Hyuugas who endorsed her legitimacy to the crown and refused to believe charges of patricide.
After investigating each, Neji crossed off everyone in the list who would help Hinata for political gain. However, there was literally no trace, not even a hint that could lead to another. It was as if she evaporated in the air.
His subordinate looked at him in concern, thinking how his master's single-mindedness, though at times essential, could be self-debilitating. The swordsman knew Neji since they were little, even though the king was previously separated from the royalty during Hizashi's death and his enrollment in the army. From years at battle, the swordsman knew that it was necessary to have a sharp focus, almost as essential as breathing. Neji's extraordinary focus was what kept him alive and earned him the nickname, margothe, from his enemies, after the legendary devil that never needs to sleep, eat, or breath. But, maybe, the princess did die, and it was becoming necessary to consider the possibility that his time and effort were all for nothing.
The swordsman took a step forward and offered, "Your majesty."
Neji glanced at him from his peripheral, as if he just noticed his presence. Then without a word, he accepted his offer and extended his bleeding hand.
He soon was sitting by his side, wrapping his superior's bleeding hand with a fresh gauze. The weight of silence fell in the chamber, the swordsman focused on his given task and Neji was deep in thought.
His low voice ran like velvet, "Ike." A strand of hair fell across his face, as his pale irises shifted to the man who was wrapping his hand.
The swordsman started. Then he lowered his gaze to the ground, "yes, your majesty."
Neji looked at him fully, "You have a question." He frowned, quietly accusing him of taking him as an oblivious fool. Ask me was the silent command.
Ike pursed his lips. He was actually thinking of a tactful way to hint that this expedition was all for nothing, but his sovereign did not give him such opportunity.
Neji's long hair swept across his jawline as he placed his unharmed hand on his armchair and sat back, "You want to know why I am trying so hard."
Still lowering his eyes to his wound, Ike quirked an eyebrow, "Would you deign to tell us if we asked?"
A curve of a self-deprecating smile crept to Neji's lips.
Ike withdrew his gaze and spoke calmly,
"You do not need to, my king. You must hear what the youngest just said about you. This is the first time he served you close and he is star struck. He would follow you right into charybdis*(a sea monster that took on a shape of a giant whirlpool) if it means going with you. He does not have the slightest doubt that your reasons are always justified."
"Young," Neji paused before saying wryly, "but I know you will make sure to change that." There was a flare of humor in his eyes.
Ike made a slight smile at his superior's dry commentary about his capability as a mentor. Despite his delicate looking features and calm disposition, Ike could be ruthless to ensure that his subordinates could survive the worst. That was why he was chosen as one of the cabinet generals.
"He keeps asking us about your military expeditions. He especially gravitates to details like "blood raining from the sky" and "chopped heads" and "burning citadels." Like a a child pestering for a bedtime story."
A slight quirk of an eyebrow showed his surprise, "I didn't know that Tokuma had that kind of taste."
Ike scoffed at his sovereign's discomfort as if he should be used to that by now, "You know how people like to talk about you. As the prince that was banished from the courts, subjected to the branch's curse seal, yet volunteered to be in the army and rose the ranks. How you have survived the past king Hiashi's schemes to get rid of you. No matter who says what, that little boy will cut that insolent tongue that questions your orders. Rest assured that none has harbored the slightest idea to even question you."
But both Neji and Ike knew. While the men would have disapproved of looking for Hiashi's daughter, their loyalty wasn't questioned. They were confident, completely faithful towards their leader even if they do not understand why they have to patrol the entire country and scout for a political prisoner that offered no threat.
Pale eyes gazed at him fully, "Give me your honest thoughts." Ike paused. Neji was asking him his personal thoughts about the reason he was going through so much.
There was a great deal of hesitation on his part. He knew instinctively that this time, Neji was not asking him as a king, but as someone who was older and who knew both him and Hinata since they were young.
Finally, he broke down, his shoulders falling down as he divulged his own suspicions, "I think...you miss her, your majesty."
Chiseled lips slightly parted and then shut.
Again a heavy pause ensued, until Neji called him once again, "Ike,"
Ike dutifully answered, "Yes, your majesty."
Neji held out his hand that looked like a dwarf's club made out of white cotton. He said flatly, "The gauze is wrapped too thick."
-past when Hinata is three years old-
In the palace of Knossos, there was a specific building assigned for in-door military training during the rainy and rare snowy seasons.
The floor consisted of long black wooden planks with a smooth sheen while the walls were coated with white clay to keep the humidity at bay.
The design of the windows were influenced by the East, commonly called the "Orient" for its tear dropped shape. In contrast with the exotic, curvaceous design, the windows were guarded by metal bars with spiked ends, hinting at the militant function of this elegant building used for meditation and communal military training. The white rotund pillars supported the dark ceiling of squared wooden patterns.
But for the three year old Hinata and four year old Neji, this austere building was their playground. She would wait for him to complete his training with his father, as she stood by the threshold. Even though she was welcomed to most parts of the palace, including the indoor training hall, she preferred to use the space when she was just with her cousin.
Back then, Neji used to be a small child who barely reached up to his father's waist. She remembered how close he was with his father, how he hugged his father's knee with a quick, "Yes, father!" and jumped to whatever adventure he had for the day.
Hinata remembered her uncle Hizashi to have a kinder face then her father even though they were twins. His eyebrows were darker and framed pale eyes that had a rounder shape and no stress lines or wrinkles. His skin was tanner than her father's and there were no lines around his mouth, and although his jaw was strong, it showed character than harshness, making him look more youthful than his age.
But despite his obvious love for his son and warm disposition, Hizashi did not hold back when training his son.
Hinata winced at the sound of a bare foot slamming on the wooden floor, reminding her of a fire cracker. But her tensed face morphed into a relieved smile when she realized that her cousin dodged his father's counterattack.
Her cousin who was taller than her looked so, so small compared to his tall father.
Hizashi kicked off his little son who flew back on the ground, but the latter rolled on his back on the floor and was on one knee, facing his father.
Neji rose and ran to his father and jumped, but his father dodged all his punches and kicks with his right wrist. With a single tilt of his right wrist, Hizashi pushed his son away again, who landed on the floor on his knees, struggling a bit more to regain his footing. When he did, he ran back towards his father, and when he thought he got him, his father's feet swept to the side and Neji fell face down on the floor. It looked too ruthless to subject a four year old child to such training, but this was ordinary for the royal family.
Hinata knew that despite his small stature, Neji's punches and kicks were sharp and delivered impact. Even though she knew that Hizashi was the vice commander of the militia, she was at awe of how simply he swapped off her cousin's attacks. She admired how Neji always charged against his fearsome father.
Hizashi looked down at his son who fell face flat on the floor, "Let's call it the day."
The four year old boy rose and knelt on the floor and carefully bowed his forehead as he faced his father, "Thank you for training me, father."
Hizashi made a proud smile, a youthful smile that showed how much he was impressed, "You've gotten stronger."
Hinata smiled too. She was glad to know that Hizashi was the kind of father who did not hold back in his fight but still remarked on his son's progress.
For her father, it was always more and more. More improvement. Always space for disgruntlement.
But she told herself. Maybe if she was like Neji, her father would be like uncle too, free of burdens and impressed and glowing with pride.
The interaction between father and son was captivating to her.
But for her, the true fun began when Hizashi excused himself, leaving the two alone in the spacious hall.
Before excusing himself, Hizashi would deferentially bow his head before her, but there was a unmistakable coldness in his eyes and lines of his face.
She recoiled slightly but he would leave quickly before she could also bow her head.
They would invite the children from the main and branch and play with a ball made of leather and Indian rubber.
Neji would jump away from the taller and older boy Ike, criss-crossing in the air.
"Neji ni!" she laughed, raising her arms, "hi-higher! Higher!"
His abounding energy propelled him to jump higher, and she looked up at him in wonder. The pure bliss on his face, the way his cheeks flushed, and the wind that blew on his eyelashes made him look so free.
When he was done with his antics, she beamed at his sweaty face.
And with all her little heart, she wanted him to be free, free like the birds, never pinned to the ground.
When Hinata was five
"Why-why is the branch ro-round shaped?"
Six year old Neji looked at her. She drew something on the soil with a twig. He looked at the drawing and recognized it right away. She was asking about the branch Hyuuga's insignia on a headband that covered every branch member's forehead. Even his father's forehead was covered by a dark silken headband with the central metal plate engraved with the insignia of Hyuuga royalty branch. The insignia was a simplified and stylized olive branch but it was in a round, spiral shape.
Now that Neji thought about it, he wondered why the olive branch was in a spiral shape like a snake.
When he asked his father the reason the insignia of the branch curled into a round spiral, his perceptive eyes caught how his father stiffened slightly. However, he immediately relaxed and said in a calm tone, "It is to show that without being connected to the trunk, a branch will always dry up, Neji."
But afterwards, Hizashi's eyes stared off in the distance with a grim, heavy look. But he quickly snapped out of his brooding when he saw his six year old son looking up to him.
Neji thought this meant a natural phenomenon that anyone would take for granted. Branches are replaceable, but the trunk isn't. Nobody would cut down the trunk. Without the trunk, the branches are good as nothing. Without being stuck to the trunk, a branch loses its only way to survive and curls into itself like a fetus in its desiccated state.
When he told her the meaning, Hinata was elated, "It-it must mean, we-we are inseparable, Neji-ni!"
He was surprised at first to hear her interpretation, "How?"
"Be-because," she balled her fists and tried to persuade him, "wi-without the branch, the trunk can't grow! The bra-branch drinks up the sunlight and rainwater."
She then looked up at him warmly, "I-I love everyone fr-from the branch- Hitsuke, Phylus, Dorian, Ike, and Sache!"
Neji glanced to the side and the end of his rosy lip tilted down. His plump cheeks looked even rounder because of his pouty frown.
Hinata looked at him and read his mood. Her eyes warmed, and she added exuberantly, "Bu-but, most of all, I-I love Neji ni. Wi-without Neji ni, I-I would be so lonely. Like a olive tree wi-without b-branches."
Neji looked down at her surprised. She was only five, but she could come up with the strangest expressions. The way she talks is sweet, but had an unmistakable, sorrowful note of finality he couldn't point his finger on.
Warmth appeared in his eyes, and a smile made its way to his face as he looked down at her.
He held out his little hand, mimicking the way his saw the adult males extend their hands courteously to ladies of high social bearing.
Hinata hid her giggling mouth with her hand and placed her hand on his the way she saw the aristocratic ladies do.
~past when Hinata is eight~
The royal envoy of Mycenae was welcomed to the Palace of Knossos, capital city of Cretes.
The grand palace has been embellished to honor the prince's arrival. Every petal of rose, every veil and tapestry has been prepared with perfection.
Neji looked at the boy who did not look any older then himself. His eyes were the exact opposite of his-pitch black that absorbed the light into an abyss of darkness. His black hair at the back of his head was also stuck in spikes.
Hizashi smiled down at him and patted his back, "Neji, this is the youngest prince of Mycenae, Sasuke Uchiha."
Neji bowed his head deferentially to the young boy with dark midnight irises, "Neji Hyuuga, son of the earl of Knossos and king Hiashi's nephew."
As he bowed his head, he felt a strange silence in the air. His senses picked up that something was amiss. For some reason, the prince of Mycenae was not paying his due respect.
The boy called the youngest prince of Mycenae asked with a puzzled frown, "Where is the heir to the king? Why am I being greeted by his nephew?"
Neji was still bowing his head, but his eyes widened at the unintentional perhaps, but nonetheless unexpected attack.
He bit his bottom lip, his long hair curtaining his face, as he slowly curled his fingers and clenched his fists.
He was always reminded of people's backhanded remarks and rumors about king Hiashi's partiality to his nephew and his somewhat ambiguous status, but such commentary coming from the lips of a boy he just met and bowed his head to was unwarranted.
It occurred to him that this rude boy was and always will be the direct descendant of a king. Probably, his unquestioned royal status was what allowed him to get away with such behavior in the first place. He never had to feel the need to practice humility or decorum because of his birthright.
Humiliation and something he hasn't felt in a while-rage and envy-crept to his heart.
But soon, he calmed the raging emotions and rose and spoke while looking at the prince dead in the eyes, "I am sure our country was also expecting the first prince as well."
Neji knew he hit the exact spot he wanted when he saw the prince's dark eyes widen and face pale. He could barely conceal his scorn when he saw a silver haired guard with a single eye peeking from his dark mask place his hands on the young prince's shoulders. The boy was about to give him a piece of his mind, but Neji turned away.
XxX
He saw him again in the sparring quarters.
The prince of Mycenae watched him as he led Hinata across the field. To avoid strange stares, she was dressed like a boy. Ignoring the boy's glare, Neji led Hinata to the bench logs.
She sat down and he handed her a round pale peach. The princess who looked just like a boy with bowl shaped hair accepted the peach with both hands and timidly munched on the fruit. Neji gazed down at her and petted her head as if she was a dog. Then he left her side to start his training.
XxX
His father spoke to him in a stern voice, "The prince of Mycenae was invited to stay in the adjoining palace compound with the first daughter of king Hiashi."
Neji at first did not understand why such information would be pertinent.
Men and women who were not related by blood were separated physically after they turned seven.
Why was king Hiashi bending the country's rules to accommodate the prince of Mycenae next to his daughter?
At his question, Hizashi smiled as he had a faraway gaze. They were both standing on the balcony, facing the violet horizon. The pale violet shades transitioned into a vibrant pink across the horizon.
His father patted him in the back, "it is so that everything will return to its rightful place, Neji."
Neji averted his eyes from his father's pleased countenance. He understood now. His uncle intended the royal house of Cretes to have a matrimonial alliance with Mycenae.
He understood that his father believed Hinata to be unworthy competition for the throne, the position Neji never dared to aspire to.
But for some reason, the thought of Hinata leaving to be wed in a distant country struck his chest, leaving him feel cold. The girl who showed him flowers and brought him honey tarts was suddenly going to be a woman, leaving to a faraway country. He knew that the day might come but he didn't want it to be so soon. The thought of Hinata being in the arms of the dark haired boy made him want to punch an innocent wall.
XxX
One evening, Hinata came to the sparring grounds and started asking questions about the prince of Mycenae. She was curious as to what the prince was like as she held a fascination with different cultures and kingdoms. When he saw her eyes shining with wonder and excitement, a sick feeling twisted his gut.
However, she seemed clueless about the buzz surrounding her marriage prospect. It seemed that her nurse and handmaidens were doing a flawless job, obeying the king's orders to be discreet as possible.
He just turned his back to her, sitting on the log as he focused on tying his sandals.
All he could muster to say was "He is about your age, Hinata sama." He could tell that she was a little surprised by his reserved attitude, but she did not press on it further.
As soon as the news of the royal massacre at Mycenae reached the king's ears, Hiashi was irate.
"Marriage? What marriage?"
He banged his fist on his marble armrest. As the king's private audience, Hizashi merely shut his mouth, as he saw his brother seethe.
"That betrothal was annulled the minute that boy's older brother went insane and killed off his entire family!"
He threw everything off his table, ink and manuscripts. "That boy is no longer a prince. He is a pauper, a pitiless orphan, a bastard! He will not even get a step close to my daughter! I would never give up the first princess to a runt!"
Hizashi's face was grim, "What should we do with the boy, then, brother?"
He grimaced as he poured himself a goblet of wine, "We will have him stay in the quarters as if nothing happened. We will figure out what to do when the new king of Mycenae is coronated."
Hiashi wiped the back of his mouth after swallowi the acidic nectar.
Hizashi asked tentatively,
"You don't mean..."
Hiashi glared at him from the corner of his eye, "If king Itachi wants his young brother home, we send him back. Until then, he is our refugee."
Hiashi's eyes clenched shut in irritation,
"Until then, Hizashi, you are in charge of taking care of the boy."
Hizashi bowed, "Yes, your majesty."
After the mysterious disappearance of the prince of Mycenae, the court of Knossos, was wreaked in chaos.
In the grand hall of pristine marble, the cabinet advisors of the main Hyuuga house gathered. Hizashi was not present, as the court did not inform him and gathered in secret.
Hiashi sat in his throne, his face stony and cold, "You are saying that Mycenae may declare war on us for its missing prince-"
A seasoned war veteran spoke up gravely, "Mycenae is a force to be reckoned with. We could face a war."
"Someone must face responsibility for the prince's disappearance. Or else the kingdom will."
The senators' faces darkened. "For the greater good, a small sacrifice must be made."
Once of the councilmen urged the king, "Your majesty, please make the decision."
Murmurs of the council swarmed in the great assembly.
"Decision, my king."
"Your decision."
Shadows cast over the king's eyes as he sat grim on his throne.
When Hinata and Neji both heard the news from the head eunuch from Knossos, she could not believe her ears at first.
She was with Neji in the coastal village that was known for its coolness in summer. They were collecting seashells by the shore. The sea breeze was so soft that they enjoyed letting the wind play with their hair. But when they heard the news, the wind felt suffocating and the emerald sea's salty waves that lapped on their ankles receded.
The news, the logic behind her father's reasoning sounded so foreign to Hinata's ears that she had to pause and repeat what has been said in her head. However, still, what has just transpired from her father's lips and executed through cold, mechanical steps still felt surreal.
Her father, Hiashi the king of Cretes, has attributed the disappearance of the youngest prince of Mycenae to the fault of earl of Knossos, Hizashi Hyuuga.
He was to be quarantined in the northwest chamber of Knossos before the final judgment.
Neji stood rooted to the floor at the eunuch's announcement, "No, it couldn't be true. Father would never..."
His pale eyes widened and lips parted slightly as he stared at the sweating messenger.
While he was speechless, Hinata surprised herself by finding the resolve, "It is universally accepted that f-father loves uncle and Neji ni-san. Th-that can't be true." She still stammered, but she still found the dignity to speak.
The messenger glanced at the princess's firm gaze but shook his head and his eyes cast down, "But his majesty, the king, has forbidden anyone to visit his lordship."
Hinata felt her confidence shaken. What was happening?
She looked at Neji who has already bowed his head and his long brown hair fell by his face. She saw his fists clench into fists as his shoulders locked.
Her eyes were filled with heart breaking concern for him but she did not dare to break the silence.
The messenger glanced at the shocked boy, "Excuse my impudence, but it might be wise to brace yourself..."
Finally, Neji broke his silence, "I am going back."
He turned away, his long hair flitting behind his back, "To father." He raced to the stables to get his horse.
XxX
The entire day Neji raced on his horse to his private residence in Knossos, with a premonition of something terrible.
He saw how his house was turned upside down by the palace guards and servants who searched for evidence of betrayal as soon as the master and his followers were dragged away from the premise.
Neji turned his face away from the sight of upturned cabinets and ripped curtain drapes.
He asked the general in charge of the search, "What do you mean I can't enter my own house? Where is father? And uncle? And why is the house like this?"
The general glanced to the side and tentatively answered, "His majesty, the king is in his private quarters...The guards and maids are being interrogated. And your father, the great earl is..."
As soon as he finished hearing what happened to his father, Neji dropped his hold on his horse's rein and ran.
The head eunuch's words still echoed in his mind, His lordship, your father is charged with the crime of neglecting the safety of the young prince of Mycenae. The young prince of Mycenae is found missing, and it was his lordship's burden and privilege to take care of the royalty's guest.
Neji's lips trembled.
Lord Hizashi is the chief suspect of prince Sasuke's disappearance, and possibly assassination.
For such crime, he is incarcerated in the northwestern chamber of the palace.
He still couldn't believe what he just heard. How could his father, his kind father, murder a child his age? How could father be a murderer?
He ran to the northwestern chamber with all his might.
He tripped over and fell onto the marble floor.
The guards rushed to him, "Are you alright?"
Neji felt his forehead throb with pain and was sure it was going to bruise. He even felt the sting of humiliation. But that didn't matter as long as he got to see his father.
There was a barred square window about 10 ft above from the ground on the wall of the cell that hosted his father.
Then he heard a gruff voice "What is going on?"
He heard someone else speak inside the cell, "Could you stand up, my lord?"
Someone in the cell called outside the barred window, "Officer, we heard a loud noise. Is someone here?"
The general spoke, his shoulders slumping in defeat as how to control this situation, "Prince Neji has arrived."
Neji's eyes widened. Now that he heard his father's followers' voices, it finally occurred to him that his father, the venerable earl of Knossos was now a criminal.
Hurried voices of men echoed in the cell quarter as they called out to Hizashi, "Your grace!" "Your grace!" "It must be the prince."
Neji jumped to the wall, his hand struggling to teach the window that was well above him, "Father!"
He saw the rough, familiar hand clasping on the metal bar, "Neji, Neji is that you?" His father's gruff voice was filled with disbelief as he also could not see beyond the barred window.
Neji tried to reach towards the hand, but it couldn't, "Father, I heard from the royal messenger!"
His father's hand tightened its hold on the bar. Neji cried, "Uncle, uncle has got to hear about this. Where is uncle, father?"
Silence was the answer.
Neji was too young and desperate to think hard about his father's silence, "Uncle is the great king of Cretes, so there is no way he wouldn't know the charge is false! Father, ask uncle for help! The Mycenean prince went missing because he escaped on his own!"
He bowed his head as he dug his fingers against the wall. Rage at the injustice of the situation made his throat dry, "Why should we bear the brunt-"
"Please stop there, my young lord," the guard pulled out his arm and held Neji back, away from the wall, "Speak further, and it would only burden his grace, your father."
Meanwhile Hizashi was listening to this, his face pale and lips tightening. Something about this situation irked him, and his political instincts honed from his years as prince screamed at him that something was amiss, 'Neji...how did Neji come here? Shouldn't the guards have stopped him? Nobody is supposed to visit me.'
Then he reached an epiphany, 'No! It was a trap!'
He grasped the metal bars with both hands, 'Neji does not understand anything. Anything at all!
An urgent voice that he didn't recognize as his father's called out to him in desperation. "Neji, Neji! You must never mention this to the king!"
Hizashi placed his lips as close to the wall as possible,
"No matter what happens, you must trust and follow his majesty's orders!"
Neji said resolutely,
"Father, I am going to tell him. There is no way uncle will let you be in such disgrace!"
The general who was guarding the northwest chamber tried to persuade Neji, "His majesty has already came and left. The affairs of the palace are intricate and complex, so his majesty would not withdraw a decision already made."
"Yes, that is true," Hizashi's hand gripped on the metal bar, "Neji, you must never blame the king or even reveal a single trace of anger or resentment!"
Neji stared at his father beyond the wall in defiance, "Is it because you want to protect me from slanderers?"
Hizashi raised his voice, "Neji!"
"Why would uncle-"
"He is not uncle, Neji!"
Hizashi banged at the wall with his fist. Neji clammed his mouth in silence.
His father continued in a grim voice, bowing his head in defeat, "He is the great lord, his majesty, the king."
Neji spoke back in a ghost of a whisper, "How am I supposed to understand such thing?"
Then it occurred to Neji that he had to take action himself, "Wait-I'll go to uncle myself. I will tell him."
Hinata who just arrived at the northwest chamber saw what just transpired and heard the desperate cries of Hizashi, "Neji! Neji!"
Hinata stopped him before he could go further, "Neji ni san."
He saw a look on her face that he was not used to -her teary lavender tinted eyes looked up to him wide-eyed.
She frantically shook her head as she held onto his wrist with both hands, "Don't go to father, Neji ni san. Please-please listen to uncle-"
Neji looked down at her and placed his hand over hers, "I will be okay, Hinata sama. Once I speak to your father, it will be alright."
Then he released her hand and ran to the imperial quarters of the king. Hinata desperately hoped that her uncle was wrong and Neji was right. Her father always proclaimed his love for his nephew. Surely, surely his icy heart will thaw in face of his favorite nephew's plea. Her father openly loved Neji more than herself. Certainly, her father will find a way to save Hizashi's life and restore his honor.
The king was with his daughter, Hanabi in his royal quarters. The gust of wind blowing against the sweeping white drapery of his chamber was soft but warm. The warmth of the air foreboded an upcoming tempest that would overtake the kingdom soon at night.
Hanabi was cooing on his lap, bringing a rare smile to his face.
The chief eunuch saw the king and carefully approached him, whispering into his ear.
"Neji?" the king's face lit up as he waved his hand at the eunuch, "Ah, of course. Let him in."
When the prince entered, Hiashi saw the round red bruise on his forehead, "Neji...Neji? Son, what happened to your forehead?"
Without further speaking, he quickly bowed before the king on his knees, "Your majesty! Uncle! Please look over my father's innocence and spare his life!"
The king's face turned ashen pale but Neji could not see his face from the way he was bowing his face.
Neji cried out, "How could you listen to such defamation?"
The king ushered the chief eunuch who took away the youngest princess at his bidding.
The king rose from his throne and strode to the wide window. He clasped his hands together behind his back and gazed at the birds perched on the big olive tree in the imperial garden. The youngest sparrow seemed oblivious to the approaching storm as it hopped from bough to another.
Hiashi sighed and pinched between his brows,
"Neji, you are the direct descendant of the Hyuugas. Do you understand this?"
He was sitting on his knees, his fists balled, "Yes." He didn't understand why this traditional speech about roots and heritage suddenly mattered when his father's life was at stake.
Hiashi whirled around and raised his voice, "No, you have no idea! Are you resentful that I could not save your father right away? Or blame the Mycenean prince for his own disappearance? That I did not tell the Mycenenan court about the Hyuuga's innocence?"
His hard pale eyes were piercing, "Do you think of me as such a thoughtless simpleton? I have my thoughts and my plans, so how dare you question me?"
Neji did not cower, "But my father is innocent. It is so obvious that the Mycenean prince escaped on his own. Is it the law of the royalty to hide what is so clear? Your law reigns supreme in this kingdom than foreigners. If you just say one word-"
He pleaded,but the sound of a slam interrupted him.
Hiashi slammed his hand on the marble table,"Enough!"
"Neji, you know nothing. For how long are you going to be such a child? Politics is complicated ...you have to assess your situation, be patient, and learn how to make choices."
Hiashi turned his back, "I forbid you from mentioning this ever again." He said coldly, "Get out."
"No, I can't-"
"What happens to your father is none of your concern! Get out now."
Neji tried to speak again, but he had no choice but to retreat.
He bowed once again before the king, hoping that his submission would placate him and make him more amenable to his cries of help.
The court of Hyuugas announced the permanent imprisonment of Hizashi Hyuuga in the northwestern chamber of the Palace of Knossos.
It was raining when Neji asked for the king's attendance again but the king rejected his plea.
He begged on his knees in the main courtyard before the king's private chamber, "No, your majesty! You can't leave father alone in the northwest quarter after you made such announcement! You know that the assassins of Mycenae will be out for him!"
Drenched by the downpour, his hair was matted across his jaw and his clothes were stuck to his body. He took off his sandals as a complete mark of humility.
Hinata watched from a distance, hiding behind one of the ivory tapered pillars.
The chief general looked down at Neji and rebuked his insolence in a grave tone,
"Your father is well protected by the Knossos' best fighters."
Neji called out to the king who did not grace him with his appearance, "Please, at least-at least-let father be armed! You know that his life is in danger any minute. Mycenae will try to kill him!"
The general motioned the soldiers in the back to approach, "Criminals of that sort are to be bereft of armory. You are dismissed."
He tried to fight off the soldiers who held onto his arms, "No, you will be leaving him to his death! How could you leave him unarmed?"
He was dragged away, but he struggled to dig his feet onto the ground, "Uncle!"
A white thunder that erupted in the sky blinded everyone in its light, "No!"
That night, in the northwest chamber, a silhouette of a middle aged man backed away from a couple of shadows.
The man called out in the dark, "Brother! No, brother! Please save me!"
He was slashed mercilessly by the assailant, and a dash of blood painted one of the ivory towers.
Demoralized and slashed, the man cried out in his final breath, "Neji!"
When the morning sun rose, the news of Hiashi's unfortunate death by the hands of Mycenean assassins also reached the court.
Neji ran to the northwestern chamber, and Hinata followed after him.
She saw him stop at the marble steps to the entrance and collapse on the floor.
She ran to him as fast as she could.
Hinata wound her arms around Neji's head, covering his eyes, protecting him the only way she knew how. She covered his eyes while her own eyes were wide as she knelt on the ground, frozen like a child phantom.
On the upper mantlepiece of the door hung a decapitated head.
The dangling head was covered by a hemp cloth worn by prisoners, but a brown strand of hair escaped the noose, dripping with red blood.
She lifted her face, gazing at the dangling head hung high above on the marble mantlepiece.
She wound her arms desperately around Neji's eyes as he convulsed on the ground and finally emitted a scream.
At the corner of her eye, she saw her father's head eunuch observe them. The truth dawned on her. Her father just washed off his hands of guilt. He might have killed his brother and laid the blame on Mycenae or sacrificed him to the assassins who thirsted for revenge, but there was no doubt that blood was on her father's hands.
She wept as she held him tight, "Neji ni, d-don't cry—I'm here, s-so don't cry..."