Standard disclaimers and stuff apply... and stick... like cheap makeup.
In the Mirror (part II)
Hinata let the water she'd splashed onto her face run off in tiny rivulets. So she was now officially the Hyuuga heiress. However life wasn't going to wait around for her to get used to the idea. This was why she woke up early. To make time to get used to life all over again every day. To give her an hour to stare at her reflection, and wonder if mirrors really could not lie. So what had changed from when she was twelve, when they thought she was too weak to be heir?
She looked into silver dresser mirror. Well her eyes were a little narrower, from staring into people eyes when she spoke to them. From forcing herself to look up, to acknowledge their presence and their interest in her at that moment. Her face was a little less round, as if her determination to make people take her seriously had helped her lose that childishness. She raised a hand to sweep a dark lock over behind her ear. Her hands were tapered, elegant and aristocratic. It seemed her blood had conquered; she'd stopped pressing her fingers together, and the aristocratic blood in her taken the opportunity, elongating the digits, turning them into artist's hands. An artist of chakra. Her hair too was longer… because cutting it was too much trouble, and because… she felt a little more assertive, being able to toss her hair over her shoulder, a natural, but almost defiant gesture. She knew she looked better with long hair, could tell it to herself over and over, that she should be proud to be who she was. She was sixteen years old and still growing. Growing stronger, growing better. Better than anyone else thought she could be. Till Naruto would finally see her. He was getting better in leaps and bounds, and she wasn't quite fast enough. But he'd see her someday… wouldn't he?
"If you're done admiring yourself, Hinata-sama, then perhaps you'd like to leave now? Hokage-sama asked that you finish early today and come see her afterwards, with Haruno Sakura."
"Neji, be nice. Hinata-chan doesn't admire herself, in any sense of the word. She has no false pretences, unlike you and your "better-than-thou" attitude." Ten Ten smacked Neji good naturedly, he simply smirked at her. The hand reaching toward her weapons pouch however was noted a little more seriously, so he desisted.
"Undoubtedly Hinata-chan can discover the secrets of life simply from staring at wallpaper, but as your pompous cousin noted, you are a little pressed for time today… Oh, I hadn't realized you were ready. Let's go, I want sesame buns."
Naruto had had the foresight to bring him sleepy drugs. The thought had scared him… Naruto had foresight and judgment. What else had changed in the five years he had been gone? At the time, it hadn't really mattered, because sleep was really all he wanted. But now that he was awake… He wasn't dumb enough to try and leave without Tsunade's permission. That would just land him with more trouble. So he sat in the bed, and wondered what the hell he was going to do now. He looked out the window, leaning his forehead against it. He would have to wear the hitai ate again. He realized he actually missed the comforting weight.
He stared into the window, the bright sunny day, and his own face insubstantially overlapped on the view outside the window. He hadn't had access to his reflection in a while. It was too dark, and everything there was too muted, to catch a stray glimpse of himself in passing. Mirrors were nowhere to be found, to stamp out vanity… and possibly to avoid the reality of it all. He stared into the window. He'd kept his hair the same, it had only lengthened a little. His face was older definitely, he'd aged, and he'd suffered. It was only natural his face would reflect it. He still reminded himself of his brother, but he found a difference. In his face, he could still read a trace amount of hope, there was still that childish wish hidden deep inside him. He would not see it as weakness, he saw it as humanity. And he still had some.
Sakura had crept into the room then. He hadn't needn't to glance over into the reflection to know it was her. He remembered her; she had been his reminder years ago. She hadn't stayed long, just long enough to remind him why he had thought her annoying. He supposed he couldn't blame her, but he could still be annoyed. She left as the sky became heavier, as if the rich colors were weighing it down. But it looked as if the weight was a comfortable burden, one it wanted to carry. He understood that a little better.
The door opened once again, a whisper of a cool zephyr brushed against him. A soft voice, like metal windchimes, clear, quiet and melodious.
"Good evening, Uchiha-san."