Note from the Author: Yes. Hizashi is still alive in this story. Deal.
… and the rain belongs to all the tender songs …
Hinata hadn't been worried about being forced into Neji's company at school. He was a senior, while she was a sophomore, and they would have no classes together – especially since their electives were different.
She had been sitting at the kitchen table the night before, waiting impatiently as her father spoke to his over the phone, concerning schedules and extra-curricular.
To her relief, she had only her lunch period with him, and she hoped – prayed – that with his undeniable wit and charm (even in her thoughts, this idea was dripping with sarcasm), he would be able to find friends so that he wouldn't have to sit with her.
Unfortunately, the friends he had found were Rock Lee and TenTen – both of whom sat at her table.
She sent inconspicuous death glares (that would have made Uchiha Sasuke, King of Scowls, proud) in their direction as they made their way through the masses of hungry teenagers, but neither of them noticed. TenTen was practically hanging off of Hinata's cousin, flirting madly, and Lee seemed intent to win a debate against him – and was failing miserably.
The two fell onto the bench opposite Hinata, trying to pull the resisting Neji, who seemed to instinctively know that sitting between them would be dangerous, down with them. He sent a pleading glance in her direction and, though she didn't – really didn't – want to sit next to him, she slid over, pulling the book she was reading and her lunch with her, leaving just enough room for him to sit at the end of the table beside her.
Neji pulled out of his friends' grasps, and slumped onto the bench beside her, radiating relief and gratitude. His thigh pressed unavoidably against hers in the small space she'd given him, and she blushed, hiding her face inside her book, and tried to subtly scoot farther from him.
"Hinata!"
Her attempts halted, she squeaked in surprise as arms wrapped around her middle, squeezing her tightly into a hug. "H-hi, Naruto-kun!" she gasped out and he let her go, plopping down next to her, leaning back against the table.
"Hinata-chan, I'm taking you to dinner." The blonde boy beamed.
Her face darkened with blush. "D-dinner?" It was a dinner date? That made things harder. "Wh-where?"
Naruto winked. "Surprise." With that, he pushed himself away from the table, letting Kiba have his usual seat beside Hinata as Shino sat down across from him, moving to sit next to his best friend, Uchiha Sasuke, whose arm draped over the shoulders of Haruno Sakura, who waved at Hinata, smiling joyously.
Hinata blinked, managing a wave back. Since when were Sakura and Sasuke together? Shrugging mentally, she bit down into her sandwich and noted the atmosphere change at the table. Looking up, she found Lee's shoulders sloped forward, the epitome of dejection, and TenTen was patting his bobbed hair in comfort.
Oh. So Sasuke and Sakura were a new development. Poor Lee. Hinata's heart went out to him. He'd been head-over-heels for Sakura since sixth grade. Hinata was a little confused though. Sasuke had never shown interest in Sakura before, despite her persistent – and almost pathetic – attempts to get him to notice her. What had happened? Her white eyes trailed from the confusing couple to Naruto, who had decided to sit across from them instead of next to him, and was now staring darkly at his pizza. Her eyebrows furrowed. He looked like he was thinking. She liked him, but she had to admit - that was unusual.
"Hey, look. More new kids." TenTen was trying desperately to get Lee's mind somewhere else. "So Neji's not the only one."
Neji missed the comment, and the fact that everyone's heads turned to seek out these new faces, as he was reading Hinata's book over her shoulder, avoiding social interaction.
Rock Lee's eyes flicked up at the newcomers, then back to his tray, then his head shot up and his mouth dropped open. "That's-that's …" he trailed off, as if he didn't want anyone to know he knew who it was.
TenTen nudged him. "Come on. Who is it?"
"His name is Gaara." Lee murmured, face blanched. "In seventh grade, I challenged him to a fight … and I lost." His cheeks pinked slightly. "He was so shrimpy – it was embarrassing, and he didn't really have any friends. He moved away shortly after."
Hinata studied this boy from Lee's past. His hair was messy and an attractive red, and his sky blue eyes were painted into seclusion from his fair face with thick black eyeliner. On his left side, a girl with spiky blonde pigtails spoke to a taller boy with his hood pulled over his head, who stood on Gaara's right. Hinata didn't know why, but she was positive the three were siblings.
Gaara, who seemed the youngest but also the leader, cast his eyes around the cafeteria, and eventually settled on Lee. Slowly, moving as if time itself would stop to wait for him if he wanted it to, he came toward them, walking with the easy stride of command. He stopped right before Hinata, who looked up at him from her seat, realizing vaguely that she was taller than him.
Beside her, Neji, who had in fact heard what was going on, despite his "I'm-not-here" demeanor, shifted in his seat, ready to defend his cousin if this kid made any sudden moves.
But the blonde girl gave a sheepish smile, apparently the voice of the group, if Gaara was the chief. "Can we sit here?"
The occupants of the table stared around at each other, and gave a semi-collective nod.
The older of the two boys gave a lop-sided grin. "Thanks. We're not to good at the whole 'Meet-new-people' thing."
The tension broke with a light laugh and bodies squished together to find room for the initiated-into-the-group-as-of-this-moment students, and Hinata found herself pressed from shoulder to knee against Neji again.
The older boy's name was Kankurou and the girl Temari. Hinata had been right – the three were siblings.
Gaara didn't speak for a long time, and when he did, it was to say, "Lee?"
The boy in spandex looked up, half-expecting an insult. "Yes?"
"No hard feelings?" Gaara offered his hand across the table.
Lee's face broke into a grin, and he shook it. "Sure."
Over the next few days, that awkward feeling of not knowing what to say to the four new members of the table began to fade, and they settled into a routine, and respective roles and seating arrangements. Hinata was slowly becoming accustomed to Neji's near-silent company, and often lay her book on her the table before both of them, as he now always sat on the end beside her, and they competed to see who could finish reading and turn the page faster. Gaara, who had decided he liked Lee best out of the group, sat across from Neji, and TenTen sat on Lee's other side, with Temari beside her and Shino beside Temari, Kankurou next to Kiba next to Hinata. Naruto often stopped over at their end of the table with an update on what they would be doing Friday evening. It now consisted of dinner, a movie, and late-night bowling.
Hinata was sure he was just trying to make her struggle with what to wear.
0
Hinata closed the front door behind her, forehead against it for a moment, eyes closed.
It had been Saturday for thirty-five minutes exactly by the time she put her hand on the doorknob of her home.
"So?" She jumped as Hanabi popped up beside her, clad in pajamas and feet bare. "How did it go?"
Hinata turned, eyes downcast, to press her back against the wood, fingers fiddling with the straps of her purse as it bounced against her thighs before falling still. Her fingers found the doorknob, cold and unforgiving, and she shivered. "It turns out," she said softly, "that it wasn't me he wanted after all."
"N-Naruto-kun? Are …why are we following Sasuke-kun?"
Hinata's stomach lurched. If she'd had a chance to eat anything, it might have come up now.
Hanabi stared at her, eyes wide in concern.
"Come on."
"But Naruto-kun … the food just came. I-I thought -."
"Just shut up, Hinata!"
Hanabi took her sister's hand, led her upstairs to the den. "Stay right here, Hinata-nee-chan." She ordered quietly and left the room.
Even if she had wanted to, Hinata didn't think the humiliation would let her legs carry her anywhere.
She hurried through the bowling alley, Sakura on her heels, toward the bathrooms, where both their dates had disappeared.
In unison they froze. Hinata felt like she was on the edge of paralysis.
She let her head fall on her knees.
Lips mashed together.
She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the images away.
Whispers, whimpers, confessions – "I love you."
Her hands curled around her ears, palms pressing hard against them, drowning out the words in her head with the drumming of her blood.
Running. Running as fast as she can in heels. Running all the way home.
A soft sound like defeat passed her lips.
Used. Used. Used. Used.
She wanted to scream, but her voice box seemed to have run out of batteries.
"Hinata-nee-chan?"
A warm hardness nudged her hand, and she shakily slid her fingers into the handle of the mug. "Thank you." She smiled softly for her sister, eyes on the carpet.
Hanabi had brought a pair of pajamas and some pillows and blankets. Hinata felt vaguely like she were the younger sister here, after her first heartbreak.
Watching late night cartoons in the darkened den, her head against her sister's, eyes closing, she whispered, "Remind me to be this kind to you," before she fell asleep.
0
Sakura stood clumsily in the doorway of the cafeteria, scanning the faces, recognizing all, but only knowing some.
"Sakura-chan?"
The pink-haired girl spun around and offered a pathetically forced smile. "Hi, Hinata-chan. Neji-san."
Hinata gave her a return smile full of sympathy and understanding. Neji's eyebrow lifted as he looked from one silent girl to the other, and eventually he shrugged and headed for the table, figuring it had something to do with simply being a girl.
"Do … do you want to sit with us?" Hinata asked shyly, watching her cousin walk away and dying to follow him. "I mean … I-I know we sit at the same table anyway but -"
"I'd like that, Hinata-chan." Sakura took her friend's hand and led her to the table, where Kiba and Kankurou got pushed down again so that Sakura and Hinata could sit together.
The air stank with thick awkwardness. Everyone was wondering what had happened, and they crept around in forced circles of conversation, often trailing off into nothingness.
Finally, just as everyone else's nerves were fraying, Temari's broke. She stood on one foot, her other shin on her seat, and cast her gaze over the table as a queen might her subjects.
Recently, three more people – Yamanaka Ino, Nara Shikamaru, and Akimichi Chouji – had joined the Naruto, Sasuke, and formerly Sakura end of the table.
Temari's eyebrows furrowed, the deep blue of her irises darkening with frustration. "Look," she began, "I'm not going to pretend to know what happened Friday night" – four pairs of eyes stared into their own respective laps – "but I'm not going to let this table be divided. I know I'm new here, I know that I haven't know you guys forever the way you've known each other, but I consider you all my friends. Hinata," she turned to the unofficial leader of one side of the table (Why shy little Hinata? She'd never know), "you were the first people to accept us here. And Shikamaru," she turned to the dark-haired boy that sat on her left, "you're my boyfriend" – deep masculine blush – "and you hang out with people I don't hang out with. Well, frankly," her hands found her hips, bangles jangling on her arms, "this if fucking ridiculous. Why are we separated like the fucking Berlin Wall's between us. News flash, kids – it got knocked down!" Her improvised speech (which Hinata thought deserved applause) concluded, she plopped onto the bench, Shikamaru sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her close.
It was like Temari's words were the hammer that broke the ice. Ino scooted closer to Kankurou, laying her chin in her palm flirtingly, and asking about the band featured in a photograph on the cover of his notebook. Naruto leaned forward so that he could see Kiba from around the two and offered a comment, joking about history class happenings. Shikamaru, his arm draped across the shoulders of a very satisfied Temari, spent about fifteen minutes arguing playfully with Sasuke about whether the Uchiha qualified as an emo kid.
Meanwhile, since semi-normalcy had re-descended on their little group (when Hinata thought about it, it was actually a rather large group – fifteen of them at one table), Gaara and Lee had once again taken up their quest to draw colorful and original doodles on every page of Lee's French book, TenTen giving suggestions at random intervals of conversations with Temari. Hinata and Neji were, as always, silent, identical white eyes following the same lines of the same book, their reverie only broken by the battle-of-the-page-turning, which Hinata always lost, because she gave up. It wasn't like it mattered – it was her book; she could go back and read it later.