I do not own Naruto or the song Spanish Doll.
Beware long Author's notes. First of all, thanks for the reviews. Either I guilt-tripped you into reviewing, or you did because you're loverly. Either way, I love you to pieces. I also thank those that added the story to their favorites/alerts.
I'm going to start calling the Hyuga witch clan White Eyes, just so if you see that name, you know what the blazes it is. Also, it seems the name of this fic isn't much loved (-sniff- I like it). Just because I kind of love it, I don't know if I'll even change it, but if I do . . . anyone have any suggestions? (The reason it fits is revealed in this chapter GASP!)
AriesFalcon: This is just how I see Kiba and Hinata, sorry. And on your 'feeling' you're completely correct. I love Team 8, too, but in a more threesome kind of way (I don't mean love triangles, hate those).
Queen of the Shadows Fangs: BTW: I've heard of Beast (look at your last review if you don't remember). Was it any good? I've liked Napoli's other fairy tale-twists (especially Spinner. I cried my bleedin' ass off for that one). Back on topic, if you don't want to know a slight spoiler, don't read any further. In the original story, Beauty has dreams with a man, who tells her he's trapped and that she has to find him. He also says to not trust in appearances and that she 'makes him happy.' She finds a painting of the guy in the castle so she knows he's not just in her dreams. She assumes the Beast is keeping him trapped. Eventually, the Prince turns out to be the Beast. Since Kiba is human to begin with, I made him a 'beast' in the dream. There's a whole . . . thing with that, that is talked about in this chapter.
It's official. I'm obsessed with these Naruto fairy tales. I have two planned (a Tsunade backstory featuring TenTen, and an Iruka backstory, much like Running Away was a Zabuza backstory, kind of). I don't have any details on Kakashi, Jiraiya, Gai, or Asuma fics, but I will in the near future. PREPARE YOURSELF FOR THEM TO (eventually) APPEAR!
Finally, after about a million years, THE NEW CHAPTER.
(x) means NOTE, which are below.
Title: The Dingo Ate My Baby
Chapter: Five
Genre: Fantasy/Romance
Characters: major: Hinata, Kiba, Tsume, Hiashi,. minor: Naruto, Sasuke, Shikamaru, Neji
Relationships: HinataKiba
Notes:
1. What Hinata says right here is taken almost exactly from the original story.
2. This song is Spanish Dolls by Poe. The whole portion I'm taking is: This place feels so unfamiliar, and yet I know it well. I feel I used to belong here, but the only way I can tell is that I miss you still, and I can not find you here.
"I . . . I want to v-visit Konohagakure." Most of the conversation stops around the table, and I blush. Perhaps it was not best to bring this up during supper. "I . . . I miss my f-family, and . . . though you have all b-been very kind to me, th-there is not way you . . .you can replace a f-family . . ." I trail off, afraid I have said too much.
"Why do you wanna go back there for? So your father can make you feel like shit? So the other White Eyes can pretend you barely exist?" Kiba is getting awfully passionate about this, and even getting out of his seat and slamming his fist down on the table. I cringe when he does so, and I wish I were back upstairs in my room.
"Kiba, sit down!" His mother growls in his direction, before turning to me. "Hinata, I unfortunately share the opinion of my outspoken son in this. Your father was . . . eager to give you up to us, and if I may speak for the whole clan, I'm glad he did."
Though it is deliciously nice to have people that care for me, and truly and sincerely like me, I cannot help but feel out of place. Everyone here is alike in their candor and lovely crudeness, and I just do not have that inside myself. I am the complete opposite of outgoing and loud, which is maybe why I am strangely attracted to these people.
But at the same time I long for the silence I had back home.
"I-I would not stay, but . . . there are c-certain things t-that only your . . . home can g-give you." This answers sounds reasonable, apparently, to Tsume.
"I vowed to try to make you the happiest you can be. And I will make every attempt to keep that promise. It is not surprising, I suppose, that one would get homesick." Ignoring Kiba's cry of outrage, Tsume goes on. "But you must promise me one thing, Hinata." At this point, I would say yes to anything. I realize I have nearly forgotten what life outside this castle is like. Is that good, bad? I do not quite know.
"Promise me that you will remain there no more than two months. But be sure to keep this promise, because I have kept all of mine. If you break this one, you may find yourself missing more than you expect." Though she ends her sentence in mysterious tones, I do not question her, and she does not elaborate.
Kiba's silent.
Tsume takes me aside, and instructs me on how to return home after the two months. She presses a cold, metallic ring into my palm and tells me that to return to the castle, I must only say good-by to my family and home the night before I come away, and when I have gone to bed turn this ring round upon my finger and say firmly: 'I wish to go back to my palace and see my boy again'. I do not ask her to clarify what she means by 'my boy.'
I pack my bags that night, and ready myself for a long trip in the early morning.
My sleep does not feel restful, though. Dingo looks at me suspiciously, as if he knows what is going to happen before I even mention it.
"Do you hate the life you have here to much that you'll leave us the first chance you get?" Ah, so maybe he does know, then. I wonder fleetingly how he found out so quickly, but the thought is chased off by more pressing concerns.
"No, dear Dingo," I answer softly, "I do not hate you, and I should be very sorry never to see you any more, but I long to see my home again. I am only going for two months, and I promise to come back to you, and stay for the rest of my life. (x)" Such a promise is difficult to make, and even harder to keep, but I truly mean it.
How can I refuse the sorrowful face of the Dingo as he asks me if I hate him? He makes me feel different than anyone else ever has, and I am truly grateful to him for that. I owe him this much.
That morning, the dawn greets my face sharply, and I find this odd for some reason. I am used to awakening early, so why is the sun shining in my face as if it is . . .
Midday! I jump up from the bed; only to find myself slamming into a wall I had not known was there. Wall? But . . . my bed was placed in the middle of my room . . .
Except this is not my room. This is not the castle. This is not the forest.
This is Konohagakure. I am home.
This place feels so unfamiliar, yet I know it well. (x)
I sit up on the bed—which I realize vaguely, is fairly uncomfortable compared to the one at home—and I gaze around at the room. Yes, it seems to be my old room . . . completely untouched. The only difference is the bag I packed last night, which I assume has followed me to Konohagakure. I gingerly finger the spot where I had banged my head, and when it comes back tinged with red, I dig through my bag for a bandage.
I dress myself without really thinking about it, and I carefully open the door. It creaks, and I jump at the sound, realizing I had forgotten all the noise these doors make.
I glance out from the doorframe, only to be greeted by several shell-shocked faces.
"Hinata?" One of them asks gingerly, as if afraid they will catch my full attention and I will bite off their arm.
I step out of the doorway, and I shoot them the biggest grin I can manage—which I must admit is not much of a grin—and I greet them appropriately. "H-hello. I . . . I have come to visit . . ."
I cannot say I thoroughly enjoy their reactions. After all, all they do is blink. I repeat myself, a little more precisely because they seem a little slow on the uptake.
Then someone is rounding the corner and . . . it is Neji. He stops and I stop and . . . he seems to be as verbally impaired as all the others. They all look at me as if I were a ghost of some sort, which I am sure I am not.
I think I used to belong here
"Hinata?" He asks me, reaching out a hand towards me, then retracting it at the last moment. Does he think I am some sort of ghost? I think he is afraid to touch me.
"H-hello, Neji. How are t-things going in . . . Konohagakure? I hope n-nothing . . . upsetting has—" I am trying my best to be polite despite his gaping look, but he interrupts me before I can get any further.
"You are supposed to be dead! That is what Hiashi told us! He said they would kill you!" That what he had had me believe as well, but as the two of us now knew, I was far from dead, because I was not in heaven.
"They a-are not monsters, Neji. Neither are they s-starved for food." I remember this as the answer that Kiba gave me when I first asked him about the fact that I was not being sacrificed to some gruesome god.
Neji snorts derisively, and I am vaguely reminded that Neji used to do this quite often. Well, habits are hard to break, I suppose. "Monsters is the only thing they are."
This riles me up, and that added to my new self-confidence instilled by the kindness of the Inuzuza tribespeople causes me to speak up. "They treat me better than you ever did!" His eyes widen in shock, and he does not response. I scoff at him, and turn heel, realizing that as the eldest daughter of Hyuga Hiashi there is not reason that I should have to stop and speak to him.
I can go right up to my father and speak to him instead!
As I walk off towards the corridor in which I know my father was usually found, my courage fails quite suddenly. I cannot speak to my father! No, I think I will walk around Konohagakure first, and allow the rumor to reach my father first. Pleased with my plan, I start off for the gate.
I think I probably receive several stares of shock and horror in the hallways, but I ignore them. No one stops me.
Once outside, I feel glad I came for the first time that I have returned. The climate is completely different from what I got used to in the Inuzuka castle. A cool breeze blows past me, carrying scents and sounds that bring back delightful memories. Food that my mouth has grown unaccustomed to, voices and accents lost in the Inuzuka people. I rush towards the crowd, probably near the courtyard.
"You've got to see 'em, Shikamaru! They were the biggest buggers I've ever seen!"
"He's completely exaggerating, Shikamaru."
"Am not!"
The voices and smooth bickering is familiar to me. Naruto and Sasuke. I never liked Sasuke much, his attitude reminding me too much of my father. I used to have a horrible crush on Naruto, though. I would follow him silently, and I feel ill every time I remember my foolishness in trying to gain his heart.
The third person, is Shikamaru, the Hokage's son and the least extroverted person I think I am ever going to meet. They soon come into view, and beyond them I see a few people enjoying a picnic under some trees.
I greet the three of them happily, a large smile on my face. Their expressions nearly mirror Neji's when they see me, but Naruto is the first to voice it. "Hinata? We. . . we heard you died!" Unlike Neji, his voice holds glee and amazement instead of confusion and a slight bit of anger.
I give them a rare sly smile, and shrug. "I am as a-alive as any of y-you."
That is how the next few hours pass, with sudden outbursts of disbelief, then greetings full of pleasure. Several people comment on changes in me, but that surprises me. I feel very much the same. I am still the quiet Hyuga Hinata, sans the Hyuga witch clan for a good part of the time.
Eventually, though this pleasant passing of time is doomed to end, and a man from the Hyuga branch family breaks into the small crowd and announces to me that my father wishes for my audience. I stiffen visibly, but I stand quickly to cover this up. Although I do not feel different, I want to act as though I am.
I say my polite farewells to my friends, and I follow the man to the Hyuga sector. I still seem to be receiving those looks of horror, but I refuse to let them ruffle me. They are not important, I tell myself resolutely.
I step past the man when we reach my father's study, and enter the room on my own. "Hello, father," I greet the man I always saw as ominously large.
"Hinata. Why is it I hear of this sudden and surprising arrival from the Branch family? Have you no pride?" His tone is terse and angry, which is something I am thoroughly used to by this time. I do not care a whole lot, actually.
He does not hit me anymore, in any case.
"I had . . . more pressing m-matters," I reply, slightly less than smoothly.
The palm of his hand slams down against the desk, enough to make the floor beneath my feet rattle. I bite my tongue and try—and fail miserably—to keep my hands apart and at my sides. "What the hell do you mean by pressing matters. This family is more pressing than anything else, understand? Why did they let you go, Hinata?" The sudden change of subject shocks me into answering truthfully—not that I would have dared to lie to my father anyway.
"I-I wanted to come back and. . . v-visit. They . . . w-were ki. . . kind enough t-to let me stay. . . I mean, l-let me come . . . for t-two months. Only. I have to go b-back—" My father listens to my halting words in what may seem to be patience, but I think is more akin to boredom.
"If you think I am going to let you return to that dung pit, you are quite mistaken," his tone is light, as if he thinks he should be able to dismiss this conversation completely. I will not let him.
I have learnt loyalty in my time with the Inuzuka, something that they all clutch to insanely. For just about the first time in my life, I want to stand up for something in front of my father.
"It is not a dung heap!" I exclaim before I can think to stutter. "They are beautiful people, and I feel happier with them than I have ever felt with you!" I partially regret my words, because I yelp and cover my mouth with my hands, lest I say more. At the same time, though, I know there is truth in every syllable. I will not allow my father to keep me from my home.
I am not as surprised as I should be to realize I think of the Inuzuka castle as my home, now. My own words come back to me, in a new light. There are things only home can give you. How true.
But the only way I can tell is that I miss you still.
Suddenly, I cannot wait until I can return.
I am so intent on these thoughts that I do not catch the angry and conniving gleam in my father's white eyes. "Really? Beautiful, are they?" He lets out a dry chuckle that seems to die suddenly in his throat and sires a frown on his brow. "You have no idea the harm they have done to us, do you?" He stands and takes a book from his shelf. It is an old, brown volume that I have never paid much attention to before now.
"If you do not mind, I will read you a story." He acts as if this is an old habit of ours, which it certainly is not. I find myself sitting down on one of the hard chairs across from his, and I resign to the fact my father's going to try to change my mind. I have already decided it is not going to work.
Then he begins to read.
This is an advisement to all White Eyes before they attempt any kind of communication with the Inuzuka demons.
They are thine enemies; from now until the moment either is exterminated. For they have committed a grievous sin ye shalt not easily forgive, if ye ever do.
Monsters for the depths of Hell, they broke the surface only to cause mischief. Every other fortnight they took form of a human, and thus tricked and caused distress to innocent humans that did not wish them any kind of harm. This trouble reached its peak when they stole away the eldest child of the Main House's Head, the boy more fit to be leader than any other seen in centuries, and slew him as viciously as only Beasts know how.
This trespass cannot be forgotten, nor, if possible, forgiven. Remember the slain child's mother's words: the dingo ate my baby.
Looking up from the thin pages, his expression is that of a statue. "I took this admonition to heart. We managed to force them to remain in their human glamours for the rest of what miserable lives they can squeeze out. I do not know why they kept you alive this long, but mind this: they were going to kill you. If you return, they are."
He is not finished, but I am shaking my head, denying every word spilling from his lips. Lies, they must be. I think of Tsume, Hana, Kurenai, Kiba, all of them. None of them would ever do anything like that. Anyway, they cannot be werebeasts, that is simply impossible. Those are fairy tales, things to tell to naughty child to force them to behave better. They are not things that come up in real life.
"If they w-were . . . going t-to kill me . . . why would t-they let m-me co . . . return to K-konohag-garakure? They w-would sure . . . surely expect y-you to t-tell me." Of course. All I have to do is think, and I can poke holes right through my father's flimsy story.
"They would expect you to think exactly the way you are thinking. My God, they are so confident in the trust you have placed in them that they do not think even your father could change your ideas about them." Well, they are correct in their assumptions. I have no reason to put my faith in my father, and I doubt that I ever will. If what he says is true, he gave me up for dead. Maybe when I left Konohagakure, I thought of it as duty, but now I see it differently.
It is called betrayal. I will not let him hurt me like that again.
"I s-still do not . . . believe you. Father. Good night." I turn and walk out before my father can think of doing anything. Well, actally, if my father wanted to do a thing, he probably could. He has the speed and the intelligence for it. I suppose he thinks I am a waste to try to convince anyway. After, why should he not let me return? He has made it more than clear how useless and worthless I am to the Hyuga.
But . . . I am more shaken by his words than I let on. I think back on all of them, and I could them as beasts. They are fiery and wild, and their fighting styles are all similar to those of creatures. What if my father is not lying? After all, he read a passage from that book, which looks considerably old, and I doubt my father would go through such lengths just to convince me. In fact, I know he would not.
I return to my room, and I just lay over my covers, not even changed. I am too preoccupied to sleep.
Eventually, though, my exhaustion overtakes my worry, and I fall into a restless sleep with a frown on my face.
And I cannot find you here.
And now I Hina-rant. Okay, yes, you can say Hinata is OOC in this story, but here's what I think of Hinata. All you really know of her is what she says, and how she acts. A good part of this story are her thoughts. Few people say everything they think, and Hinata is definately not one of those people. I've always found Hinata interesting because I like to believe she's got her own, less fierce, of course, version of Inner Sakura that we don't see. That is my explanation for any Hina-OOC you may find in this story, and practically any of my other Hina-fics (not counting AUs because . . . . she's odd in those.)