Summary:
They like to believe that their eyes are diamonds; hard, precious, birthed through generations of pressure. They're wrong. Their eyes are glass; brittle, fragile, created from common sand through seconds of intense heat. Glass breaks, glass cuts, glass shows reflections that they don't want to acknowledge. Reflections of others... and reflections of themselves. [AU] [Hinted SasuHina] [Non-Chronological Linked Drabbles]
General Disclaimer For The Entire Story:
I don't own Naruto. If I did, I'd have drawn out a very helpfully annotated map of where everything is in Konoha. If there are little-used canon!characters, there should be little-mentioned canon!places, so fanfiction authors can use those like they elaborate on the L-UCC. The cover picture isn't mine, either.
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(routine, for better or for worse)
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[Age 8]
There are a hundred greetings in a day.
More than that, in all likeliness, but some stand out to her especially, two fixed ones never-changing on her schedule.
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Dawn breaks; whichever Branch member in charge of waking her up will politely knock on her chambers' door, and just as politely murmur a properly respectful alert.
There is no 'good morning' or 'hello'.
There is only the uniform, bland, "Breakfast will be ready in an hour."
Hinata tries to be polite and respectful of the Branch members as well, but it's... difficult to do so when the Main members seem to always be watching and disapproving, when the Branch members seem to always be startled and wary.
'At least,' she thinks, 'they don't appear to be particularly resentful of me.'
(That doesn't say much, though; the Branch members could simply be hiding their resentment behind impassive, stone-faced facades. Neji's level of shown resentment is rare, and has earned him a few seal-shocks from the harsher Main members. He is allowed a bit of leeway, since Hiashi is unfathomably stern and lenient with him in randomized turns.)
'When I am Clan Head, I will need the support of the Branch, the support of the Main. I will need the support of the Hyuuga.'
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Breakfast comes; Hiashi is watchful, Hanabi is winsome, Neji is willful.
She herself is reserved and careful, calibrating to Hiashi's mood, Hanabi's emotion, Neji's attitude.
Formal formality forms fortune.
They mutter 'itadakimasu', and eat quietly from then on.
When finished, Hinata asks for permission to leave, for whatever it is she intends to do afterwards.
School, mostly.
If it's a week-end, or day-off, or summer vacation, she'll have to first ask if there is anything she has to do today.
There might be a Clan event, or a public appearance, or a ceremony, or something.
Hiashi will then inform her of the 'something', and she will accordingly be detained.
Otherwise...
"May I be excused to depart for personal training in the Konohagakure park area, Otou-sama?"
Head down, bow still, carefully detached tone.
"You may, Hinata. Will you require any guards?"
"I feel that my training will be successful without having an escort, Otou-sama. Of course, I defer to your final decision, Otou-sama."
"Very well, then. If you so wish, Hinata, then I will allow that to be."
Interruption, hero-worship, bright and young.
"Tou-sama! Can I go with Nee-chan, um, Nee-san?"
Hinata wants to cringe, wince, sigh at her lack of decorum.
Hiashi surveys the trembling form of Hanabi, whose eyes are shining and chopsticks are clenched in eagerness.
Sharp rebuke, creased brow, thunderous frown.
"Use 'may', not 'can'. Lower your voice. Excess emotion is a weakness open to exploitation. Hyuuga do not use utterances such as 'um' and 'uh' and any similar sounds. Have you forgotten all of your decorum teachings? You are past the age where you are given freedom to use '-chan' for addressing those close to you, and slip-ups are not welcomed, even if you are not the heiress-apparent. Do you understand, Hanabi?"
Cowed, look down, meek nod.
"Yes, Otou-sama. I am very apologetic for my misuse of my words, and will seek to avoid further incidents in the near future," Hanabi said delicately, trying her best to imitate her Nee-chan's speech.
Imperious nod.
"We have reached an agreement on this subject, then. I will allow you to accompany your sister to her training, provided you do not distract her in anyway. A guard will have to escort both of you, now."
Hiashi returns to his food, and the matter is closed.
Hinata restrains another sigh, but obediently lets her imouto trail after her outside.
The door closes behind them.
Neji didn't say a word the entire time, other than the required 'ohayou gozaimasu' and 'itadakimasu'.
.
.
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There are others, of course, many others.
When she meets with her escorts, they give her stiff nods, just low enough to be respectful, and proceed to shadow her steps from a distance, her vigilant watchers.
(Wardens, more like. Wardens, in the guise of prisoners, making sure the other prisoners under illusions of control cannot escape.)
When she walks down the streets, milling civilians steer clear from her steady gaze, seeing only the bloodline and the straightened backs of her watches (guards), not the girl oh-so-lonely, snuffing out the need for friendly human interaction through years of practice and an iron clamp of steeled will.
Vendors sometimes venture to offer her free samples, an image of prospective advertising and business tentatively blooming in their irises, overlaying the heiress they view, missing the child underneath.
(She makes a point of always refusing those offers, as a point of ultimately irrelevant spite, slick stinging sourness in her throat.)
When she reaches the Academy, students avert their eyes, glimpses of fear and flashes of jealousy and snippets of glazed, distant indifference being all she can glean from the gleams.
When she reaches her classroom, braver classmates sitting near her cautiously murmur a terse 'ohayou', quickly beginning new conversations with others, born out of some unfathomable, fervent desire to avoid her.
(They look at her and what do they see? They see a cold genius, a talented heiress, the top student and the 'Ice Queen'. They do not see someone they can approach, they do not see someone they know how to approach without faltering and drawing up short.
Afraid of making fools of themselves, of bothering her and unintentionally setting off a potentially dangerous temper, they retreat and withdraw, content to maintain the painful status quo.
... painful for whom?)
When the bell rings and classes start, the busy, overworked instructor, who scrawls furiously on the board with an expression of resigned monotony, spares them all an uniform, bland, general 'good morning', one which they return with varying amounts of enthusiasm and sincerity.
Short compliments are dispersed among them, growing longer and gaining floweriness as the day wears on and the teachers collectively perk up near the closing of school hours.
It is no surprise that the Clan-affiliated children are given greater encouragement and attention, sly preferential treatment shown openly if one is astute enough to keep their ears listening and their eyes open.
Hinata has very good eyes.
It's somewhat of a family trait.
Perhaps the Aburame sees it as well, definitely the Nara, and maybe the Uchiha, for such blatant favoritism cannot have gone past him, at the very lest.
Very likely he knows, and does not care.
If the Uzumaki attends class, she keeps a discreet eye on him, cutting in and interfering discreetly if she believes the instructor is acting unfairly towards him.
More unfairly than the Clan-gap, that is, although technically he is also Clan, simply not of a Konohagakure Clan.
The grateful glances and whispered thanks she receives suffices as payment, his words lighting a mushy sort of warmth in her stomach that she equates to the feeling she gets after spending time with Hanabi.
If the Uzumaki has once again skipped class for the day, she often meets him in the Academy training grounds afterschool, 'personal training' being one of the few times she can be escort-free.
(Escorts still come to pick her up at the gates at the time she specifices, but that is just unshakeable protocol, and to an extent, the less cynical part of her can appreciate the security measures implemented for her benefit.
The more cynical part of her can appreciate the canny ways of controlling her actions the Clan Council has undoubtedly spent generations devising, developing, and adjusting.)
His greeting is one of her favorites, tied right up there with her imouto's.
An innocent grin, sky-catcher crescents forming as eyes of pure cheer, a relatively tame shout of welcome, a forward bounce with arms outstretched.
Hinata allows herself a few seconds of indulging in the hug, indulging herself and the boy both, before firmly ordering him to release her, and they begin lessons.
The heated glow of pride she retains after another successful mentoring session is a greeting all on it's own, basking in the addictive sunshine that is the Uzumaki's chakra and tortuously naive personality.
The best kind of torture, she would think, because sometimes, sometimes the world doesn't need any cold-hearted calculating cynicism.
The world has enough of that already.
No, sometimes what the world needs is a dose of refreshing, clenching, bracing naivety, to combat the drudging weariness of everyday battles, battles fought in the mind, the morality, the gray realms of circumstance.
A giant star is what the sun is.
Uzumaki Naruto, she is sure, is a core reactor, one who can create galaxies of inspiration on a whim.
It is vaguely depressing on some internal level, as paradoxical as the notion is.
She knows she cannot measure up to that brilliance.
And she can accept that.
So long as she has a front-seat to the fireworks, the explosive force that he is, that he will be.
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Re-posting the drabbles, edited and with some added elaborations.
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