Warning: Chapter with sensitive content: doubtful consent of minors, abuse, child neglect, mild vulgar language. Read at your own discretion.

Possessive

[Zero]

Hinata doesn't like loneliness, it was something she knew since she was just a child.

Her childhood, the stage that was supposed to be the happiest of her life, just wasn't. Most of the time she was forced to be locked in her room, studying, reviewing, memorizing every word of the teacher's textbook on duty, only to be bombarded with gruesome questions about historical events that never happened, trying to get her wrong and fail it without second chances to respond.

She was only seven at the time.

When her tutors left, she had a few hours to play with her dolls and other toys until the maids came in to bathe her, dress her, and take her to dinner.

Dinner was, without a doubt, the highlight of her day.

Even if she didn't see her mother, who never left her room prisoner of her own mood, she could at least spend time with her father, grandfather, uncle and cousin.

In those moments they were like those happy families seen in television commercials, chatting, laughing and thanking for the food.

Even if she didn't understand what the grown-ups were talking about, she and her cousin, Neji, would lock themselves in their own world chatting about everything and nothing.

Then the elders asked her about her day, about her classes and she would give them a short summary of everything she had learned, smiling widely at the congratulations she would receive after another round of perfectly answered questions, each one returning to their own world.

But the things that made her happy never lasted forever.

Her mother died, his uncle was murdered, and shortly afterward her grandfather fell ill; she last saw him when he slept inside a box that was lowered underground.

All in less than a year.

There were no more family dinners, her cousin was never home and her father much less. From then on it was just her sitting at the head of an eight-person table with seven empty chairs, while she was surrounded by a whole team of maids who controlled her diet, portions and manners.

"Don't put your elbows on the table, Hinata-sama."

"Meat is only served on Wednesdays, Hinata-sama."

"You are almost at your ideal weight, Hinata-sama, we can't ruin all progress with dessert, it's not healthy."

But that was her normality, she accepted everything and ignored how gray life had become.

Puberty was, hands down, the most confusing time of all.

She was twelve when she got up and noticed the big red stain on her mattress and sleeping pants. At that moment she had a whole crisis, they had never spoken to her about the menstrual period and seeing all that blood made her think she was dying, perhaps from the same thing her mother had died.

The maids, hearing her screaming and crying, rushed into the room, ready to take care of whatever situation might be present, only taking a moment to search around the room until finally their gazes landed on her and the stain above the bed that seemed to get bigger.

Chaos broke out, the maids began to flutter around her room, laughing and taking orders from the leader of all of them.

They put her in the bathroom and helped her clean up, it was all confusing for her the moment they took her out, wrapped in her in a towel, and quickly handed her the underwear's, ready with an intimate towel on it.

She noticed her mattress was no longer on the bed, it had probably been removed for cleaning. She finished dressing in her slip clothes and then sat in her desk chair, listening to the great explanation about the menstrual cycle and all that it entailed.

"You´re already quite a woman, Hinata-Sama" was what one of the maids said, excited and with an expression of pride on her face, as if it was not something scary to learn at that age.

However, she accepted it and embraced everything that came with it.

The new privacy was a very big relief, she realized, not having so many women with her in the bathroom while she bathed or in the room while she changed was a very welcome new respite, especially in that moment, when her body began to develop so quickly. They taught her to put on makeup in a light and not strident way "as it should be for a lady of your status" they said. The type of clothing changed, it was not revealing, but the animal prints and humorous phrases changed for more mature phrases or plain clothes, the sneakers gradually changed to heels, and the dresses in her closet became more present than ever.

Even so, she was still locked up at home, studying and waiting for her father to show up again for more than one weekend a month.

At fourteen, almost fifteen, a new tutor appeared.

He was a young man, barely twenty-three years old, but with a great knowledge of literature focused on romanticism.

He was funny, he had made her laugh from day one, and he wasn't strict like her other teachers.

Her spirits improved considerably with this new teacher, and even her caregivers had noticed this, feeling genuinely happy for her.

Tuesday afternoons, after his piano lessons, were her favorite moments. This new teacher was kind, when he asked her a question and she answered correctly he would congratulate her and pat her on her head or on her shoulder. In the tests, when she got the maximum score, he cheered for her and came back the following week with a small gift: chocolates, key rings, a flower; all those little things he could carry in his briefcase and that they kept secret between the two of them.

If at any time she doubted her answer or couldn't answer, he encouraged her by putting his hand on her knee and stroking her.

One day when she was wearing a skirt, that hand went halfway under the hem of the fabric.

She liked the feel of his hand on her thigh.

From that day on, she began to wear skirts more often, especially on Tuesdays and then on Thursdays as well, after she requested a second day for literature classes.

The problem was that she was quite good in this class, she did not usually fail the questions very often, so, seized by absolute curiosity and desire to feel that again, she began to intentionally answer wrong.

At first it was one or two simple questions that she had already answered in the past and that earned strange looks from her tutor, a look of confusion, but he let it pass and called for a break by patting her knee, nothing more.

Not having the result that she wanted, she intensified her efforts.

She failed four out of five questions even if he gave her more than clear clues to get her right. The more she was wrong, the more visible his frustration was, but the teacher no longer encouraged her, he only became stricter and left more homework for her, folding his arms in his seat while waiting for her to complete her assignments until the time of the class end.

She did not understand why it didn't work but she did not give up at any time.

Until finally her teacher blew up.

That Tuesday he got in her room with a frown and a crumpled paper in the same hand in which he was clutching his briefcase.

Even though she could tell he wanted to slam the door, he didn't, and instead closed it softly, letting out a heavy sigh and walking over to the desk where he spread the paper on the wood, a big red zero furiously drawn in the center and small x's next to each of her answers. He grabbed the chair and with his gaze indicated her to sit down, beginning to read the questions and answers on the paper, his tone hardening as he went further listing his mistakes, those she knew even bordered on the absurd.

"We reviewed all this Hinata, and each time you answered more than well to each question" he said after finishing, with the words overflowing with disappointment "You were the best among all my students. What happened?"

Hearing that led her to bite her lip and tighten the edges of her skirt. Was she teaching someone else? Several girls? She always believed she was the only one for him.

He crouched down in front of her, and she almost flinched with excitement when both of his hands came to rest on her knees, making circular motions with his thumbs, seeking to give her the comfort that he had been denying her so much lately.

"What happened, Hinata?" he asked again, more gently "Did I do something wrong? Is there something bothering you? Or you just don't want me as your tutor anymore "

She wanted to yell at him that yes, it was his fault, but not for the reasons he expressed: it was his fault for not paying the same attention to her as at the beginning, for denying her the sensations that he himself had taught her in the first place, for making her feel so confused and not explaining why she felt that way.

…But the words just didn't leave her mouth, as if her tongue and lips has suddenly worn out and no longer had anything she could say.

So, she thought better of showing it.

Slowly but firmly, both of her hands came to rest on his own, holding them gently and sliding them over her legs, making them rise higher and higher, looking into his incredulous eyes as she continued the movement until his hands were under her skirt, just out of curiosity taking them further than he ever did.

He let go of her grip and fell back, sitting on the floor with his eyes wide open and his lips parted, showing disbelief.

Without saying anything, he quickly stood up and left, barely closing the door, leaving her there, alone and shattered as tears began to slide down her cheeks.

He did not return that day, nor did he the following Tuesday.

She didn't understand what she did wrong, she only knew that she would cry during the three hours that he was supposed to be with her, teaching her.

He does not love me.

I'm worth nothing to him.

I am a mistake.

Those were the thoughts that ran through her head, teasingly as she lay on her bed in a fetal position, crying.

However, on Thursday, he returned.

And at first, she did not believe it, it was not the first time that her imagination played with her, making her believe that she heard a soft " Hinata" with his voice only to turn and find the room empty, or that she would sleep and dream of him, and he would even feel him inside her dreams.

That's why at first she ignored him, she ignored her door opening and closing, she ignored the almost non-existent sound of the lock, she ignored the sag of her mattress that told her someone got on her bed, and she even ignored the touch next to the call of her name.

But she could not ignore when her arm was grabbed to pull her, or when her eyes met his, lit up in something unknown she had never seen from him, much less when the same shameless hand that had grabbed her openly entered between her pajama bottoms, under her underwear, touching that spot between her legs in a way even she hadn't.

She learned new things from then on.

She learned to use her hands and her mouth in completely different ways than what she was used to, she learned that pain could exist before pleasure, she learned vulgar words and phrases that were said to her or that he asked her to say, she learned the power that came with them, the power she had.

He explored her completely, getting between her legs with his hands, his lips, his tongue and his dick, and even in those embarrassing positions he never stopped teaching her what he was hired to do.

One of the most important things she learned was to lie, because sometimes she forgot that her body was marked by bruises and bites, so she had to make up excuses that sounded convincing so as not to worry her caregivers, who sometimes entered her room without even calling, asking about the bruises that decorated it.

It didn't matter as long as she had her beloved tutor, the one she had learned to think about while touching herself on the days she didn't see him.

But, as always, everything she loved never lasted long enough.

All her tutors were fired without notice and announced that starting next week she would start going to school for the first time in his life, at mid of school year.

It was all sudden, but what mortified her the most was when she tried to call her former tutor but was quickly referred to voicemail.

She started school, and although she felt nervous about this strange decision, she couldn't stop thinking about him, trying to call him, feeling insecure and getting angry to the point of crying when the persistent idea that he could be with someone else came more and more frequently to her mind.

One day, when she came home ready to call him one more time, she was curious to hear the strange sound of the television in the private living room, the one that she always thought was a simple decorative object with no real function.

When she approached, she was surprised to see her father there, surrounded by men in black suits as he watched the news impassively, announcing the discovery of a corpse floating in a nearby river.

"The victim was identified as Hayata Himori, a twenty-three-year-old reported missing approximately three days ago. The body shows signs of violence and there are preliminary speculations the death was more recent and that the body was abandoned between last night and early today. "

A photo was shown alongside the reporter that took her breath away and clenched her throat.

It was her loved teacher.

"Himori was a well-known high society literature tutor specializing in ancient literature. Previously Himori was also known to be one of the youngest people in Japan to be requested by twelve of the most prestigious universities in the world at the age of fourteen ... "

Finally, her legs did not resist, she had to hold on to the wall without being able to assimilate what she saw and heard.

It was only when she felt her arms grasp, lift and embrace was when she realized her father had approached her, whispering words that she could not understand. The shock of all that was very strong, and the only thing that could register her brain was her father saying " I'm here" over and over again, while she still had her eyes glued to the television, where a new report was already taking place on the screen.

Hiashi returned home, but he did not return alone.

Along with him, a considerably younger woman and a girl arrived at her home.

A sister and a stepmother she had never known about.

His father's new wife - or well, maybe not new to him, but definitely new to her - was thirteen years younger than him, with a curvy body that you could tell she was always groomed and made up, the perfect definition of a trophy wife.

The girl's name was Hanabi, she was her half-sister, and she was ten years old, five years younger than Hinata, which meant that she had been born two years before her mother's death. That would be bittersweet knowledge in a normal situation, but right that time she couldn't think of anything but his dead teacher.

So, she locked herself in her room, cried for a few hours, and then got involved in the assignments and projects that were left to her to make up for her late entry to school.

A night, just two weeks prior, she realized it didn't really hurt like the death of a loved one should.

Actually, she no longer felt sadness.

So, when she was called to dinner, she left the room and sat at the table, no longer at the head, but facing her father, his wife to his right, and Hanabi to his left.

She silently watched the dynamic between the three of them and couldn't help but feel jealous of how openly affectionate he was with the youngest: listening to her, smiling at her, hugging her, all those things he had denied her with his absence in the last years.

But again, she accepted it, because that was her normality.

Hanabi also entered her school, both of them were left at the doors by one of the family's drivers because her father was a very busy man with no time to drive them and her stepmother had a whole morning routine to follow, in addition to having done her personal mission is to redecorate her entire home, getting rid of everything her mother ever did.

Obedient to her father's orders, Hanabi held onto her hand as she tried to guide her through that structure that she really didn't quite know yet to take her to her class. She talked up to her elbows the entire way, and Hinata secretly wondered if she had a kill switch hidden somewhere. When he finally - finally! - found the class she would attend, she just dropped her on the door, not saying another word to her as she turned and leave.

Immediately arriving in her own class, she smiled before walking through the door, being greeted by a perfect chorus of "Hinata!" by all her colleagues patners present there.

Despite being new, she had been the talk of the school from the first moment: she was cute, intelligent and kind, those were the words with which everyone expressed themselves if someone else asked about her. Her last name and the fact of entering school at such a strange time only increased the curiosity everyone felt about her.

They also said bad things, however; They talked about her family, what they did and how strange it was that her mother, uncle and grandfather died in such strange circumstances so many years ago.

She didn't care, good or bad, she enjoyed the constant attention people had on her, and even if she couldn't show it because of her total inexperience in social relationships as the result of her homeschooling, everyone else just got more involved around her, understanding her apparent shyness as something "cute" and "adorable" that only made them want to be around her even more.

Her popularity naturally also attracted many suitors, boys who enjoyed the same attention that was paid to her and also from those most marginalized who, between stutters, confessed their feelings, and from time to time the occasional girl who with the same courage of a boy would quote her in some place behind the school.

She never rejected them, they all left the place with a smile and completely red cheeks after receiving a kiss and, hopefully, something else from her.

Of course, there were unwritten rules to follow before attempting anything with her:

Be honest and tell her what you liked best about her before confessing.

Do not arrive empty-handed, even a flower petal is enough.

Her sister - whom she had learned to love after a year and a half of living together - had to be treated in the best possible way, since how they treated Hanabi, it would be how they would treat her.

If she was dating someone, wait for the inevitable breakup and a week later.

The latter was the hardest of all, as she was always dating someone, she was never alone for long and by the time everyone found out, she already had a new boyfriend.

Their relationships used to be short-lived, the longest of hers lasted three months and the girl she had been with at the time suddenly moved to another city, breaking her heart into a thousand pieces that took two weeks after endless calls and emails, finally it was repaired by her newest love interest.

If someone dared to confess while she was already dating someone, one of two things could happen: you would capture her full attention at that moment or she would just kiss your cheek and turn around without saying anything else, without rejections or responses.

For her last year of school, she was still the sweetheart of school, but she was also the easy girl, the whore, the one that everyone has had.

And she accepted it because it was her normality, and she preferred that everyone said even worse things than to be alone again.

Her last college boyfriend broke up with her a week after graduation, and this one, unlike everyone else, had no qualms about telling her all the reasons right to her face before rushing off to the airport, where he would board one plane to another country on another continent.

Intense

Crazy.

Completely obsessed.

Even if she tearfully asked him to stay, that she could change, she was ignored and left at the front door of her own home, hysterical.

I'm alone.

Nobody loves Me.

I worth nothing.

Those same thoughts that kept repeating like a broken record in her mind every time someone broke up with her.

She tried to fix things, by God she tried! But any form of communication she had with her ex- boyfriend disappeared: his number stopped working, his social networks were gone, and her emails were returned to her, with the message of " user not found" as the cause of that.

In the midst of her despair, his father had enough.

Their relationship, already fractured by the past, simply ended up breaking down at the time when he asked for her things to be collected and sent her several cities to the east, where Neji was finishing his university studies for her to do the same.

"I do not care what you want to do for life, but this damn attitude must stop" he had said that time "I will never abandon you, but fix your damn life and when you do so you can comeback home" he gave as an ultimatum before closing the door in her face in the form of farewell while her driver waited for her to take her to her destination.

Against all odds, it turned out to be what she needed.

Even if in her head her life was repeating itself from her mother's death to the present like a bad comedy, even if the thoughts of self-destruction were calling her louder and louder, she quickly reached the house where her cousin had hidden for all Those years, she realized that this was what she was missing.

He was what she was missing.

Neji was what she was missing.

She knew it by how he hugged her and by how comfortable she felt in his arms.

She knew it from the smile that spread across her own face when she saw his.

She knew because all bad thoughts… all thoughts fell silent, leaving her mind alone for the first time in what felt like centuries.

She knew it because she no longer felt alone.

This was what she needed, she needed her cousin and everything he could offer her, so, as her father demanded, she "arranged her life."

Although she had never had any real ambition about what she wanted to pursue, she ultimately opted for a career in accounting, she had always been good with numbers, so she thought it would be an easy thing to do.

She entered the same university as her cousin and they both tried to keep their schedules as compatible as possible so they could come and go together, although there was always one day or another where she would have to go out later, and despite the fact that he told her it was not required, Neji always waited for her.

By the start of her third semester, she could tell she had everything in order. She had not entered into a relationship with anyone despite the fact that she had several suitors, something she had achieved with the help of Neji and the psychologist she had started attending, something that at first was only to qualify for enrollment in college, but she had such a good experience and felt so good after the three sections requested by the university were fulfilled, that she decided to continue with the consultations.

One of those days after her appointment with the psychologist and while she was waiting for Neji in a nearby cafeteria in front of the main park of the city and which was almost empty as always, she was browsing the internet, looking at things she wanted to buy. Neji was late, he had texted her that he would be arriving a little later and not to leave until he arrived, to which she responded with emojis of a thumbs up and a smiley face.

She was focused on her phone, but not enough to not to hear the bell at the front door, which led her to react automatically, picking up her things and standing up, but when she looked up, she stopped immediately because, although she directly came across eyes just as clear as her cousin's, those were not his, these new eyes were smaller, bluish. There was not a hint of color in his hair, on the contrary, it was all white, short and somewhat wavy, the opposite of her cousin's hair.

She and that man who had just entered the cafeteria stared at each other, and without warning, he began to walk towards her, approaching, introducing himself and shamelessly giving her a compliment that filled her cheeks with the exquisite heat that she had not felt for years.

That day she met him.

That day, she met Toneri Otsutsuki.