AN: Written because I love Hinata.
Disclaimer: No own, no sue.
i I don't know why, but when I look at Naruto-kun I feel courage. I feel that if I try my best, even I can do it, that I am worth something. That's how I begin to feel. /i
She watched the whole thing.
She watched as that boy had run up to the other children, trying to join in their games. He was that boy who had no parents, the boy who always seemed to be alone. Today he wasn't.
She watched as he played with the other children, rolling in the dirt, chasing them across the street. She wanted to join in, but the boys were too rowdy, and it made her nervous. So she stood there in the shade of the tree, invisible to the other children, and watched.
She watched the parents come to get their children, and saw with confusion the sudden fear that came over their faces. They called all the children over, but when that boy went with them, they told him to stay behind. Their voices were harsh, and she was just as surprised as the boy, and a little afraid. She pulled herself further behind the tree, hiding in its shadow.
She watched the parents speak to the children, and then they all walked away. The boy did not move. He only stood there, like he was waiting. But no one came back for him. No one even turned around. They only left him there, waiting, until he finally turned around and left. She watched him go.
She watched him the next day as he came among the children, watched him as he went to play again. But this time, instead of letting him in, the games stopped. The boy asked what was wrong, why did they stop, but they only looked away, or glared at him harshly. Go away, they said. We don't need you here. You'll only mess us up. Then they walked away, and left the boy standing in disbelief.
She watched the boy stare at them as they began their game again, his small fists clenched at his sides. She waited for him to yell, she waited for him to cry. She waited for him to fall apart. But he didn't. He only stood there. He was waiting again, and suddenly she knew why. He was waiting for someone to go to him, for someone to shout his name. He was waiting for someone to turn around and look at him.
She watched him struggle, watched him fight his tears. She watched him stand alone, when all he wanted was someone who would stay near. She wanted to go to him. But she couldn't. Because she was too afraid.
So she stayed hidden, and watched him leave. She watched him run from all the people who shunned him, from the people who ignored him. And she watched him for days after, expecting him to slip into the shadows and hide, as she had chosen to do. But he didn't. He stayed out in the open. People did not want to look at him—he made it so they had to. He created problems for everyone, made mischief, and because of that he was yelled at, got punished. But he didn't care any more, because people were talking to him, they were looking at him. They were noticing him.
She watched him do all this, and she wished that she could be him, she wished that she could be that strong. But she knew that would not happen; she did not have the same heart as him. All she could do was continue to watch; when he thought no one would look, she would look, and when he thought no one would care, she would care. She decided, she would always be there to root him on.
Even if he never knew.