Summary: They wronged her in life. Now they'll come together for it. "Hinata was like a monarch butterfly; like pinwheel spokes in a harsh breeze. Too fast- too fleeting- to keep." 5 people- Ino, Sakura, Naruto, Neji, Sasuke- remember her after her death.

A/N: Reviews = 愛. It's the final chapter in this 6 part fic. My first completed fiction for FF ever. I enjoyed writing this immensely. Thanks for all the amazing kindness and comments. Please tell me what you thought of it overall.

Maybe I liked her, a little.

Maybe I could have known her better. (Protected her.)

But I did nothing.

::SPOKES::

::5::

::Uchiha Sasuke::

1::

I can't remember when I first met her - But is that even important?

It's the thought that's been reoccuring ever since I found out Hinata died.

I try to remember where we first spoke – though to be honest we didn't speak much at all – or even when I first said "hello."

(Pathetic.)

Another reason to dislike myself. No – it's more like another reason to wish I hadn't been so dumb.

Me, dumb. What a laugh. Right?

...Well, it's true. So you can start laughing.

2::

After much deliberation, I realize that the first time we actually met was in our middle school student council.

Her hair was in braids. I remember thinking, How incredibly immature. Like I was better than her just because.

Hinata was in one my advanced classes. She wasn't very good at English – I didn't share a literature course with her then, and she missed out on decoding some of Shakespeare's greater works in that class – but we had math together fifth period. Hinata was a year younger, yet she was smart enough to do work an entire grade ahead. "Special".

This annoyed me. Geometry was meant for grade eight only, and so was student council. She hardly ever spoke up. Since school started that year, I'd only seen her raise her hand in math class twice; but I'd seen her test scores when papers were handed back and Hinata had gotten all As. High As. Which, of course, only added to my aggravation.

Yes, I admit it. I was being childish. But I couldn't seem to help myself.

And there she was, sitting in the guidance room, waiting for our history teacher to begin the student council meeting.

At first I thought it was a mistake that Hinata was there. Then, when our teacher walked in and passed everyone a form to fill out, including her, I realized it was no mistake. She'd actually been chosen to be a council member.

I had been one of the few students who had been forced to campaign for the position, and ended up becoming Vice President. I hadn't wanted the position of President; that seemed too pretentious to me – it wasn't my style. (This popular kid in our grade ended up winning.) And in the "campaign", which in my opinion was entirely juvenille, I'd barely done anything. I've never had trouble connecting with other students. I was already chosen before I was forced to promote myself.

Why had I wanted to become vice president? Because it will improve my grades, and it will be my extracurricular for the year, I'd been tempted to say. Instead, I'd lied. I want to be vice president to ensure that I will help my friends and student body, I'd said. To make much needed changes to sports and clubs at our school. To listen to complaints and to help.

What had Hinata done, really?

I watched her throughout the entire meeting, waiting to see what she would do. I gave her credit that she told us her name and grade without faltering. It was clear to me that Hinata believed she was meant to be here. I credited her for that more than anything.

We went around the room and said all of our names. We talked about why we wanted to be on the council and what we hoped would be accomplished by Spring. We discussed what initial changes we wanted and what our first project of the year would be.

Hinata called me out.

Our history teacher agreed that it would be good for our first project to be a fundraiser during spirit week. I said we should have something to raise money for the school, like a raffle. You enter to win. Tickets cost seventy-five cents. The more tickets you bought, the greater chance of winning the prize.

Hinata raised her hand.

"I think it's a good idea, Uchiha-san. But...it's just – I think we should give something maybe to charity too. We should donate to charity and take some of the profits for the school. B-because – because if it was for charity instead of just a prize, w-wouldn't more people want to buy tickets?"

The other students agreed. And I sat there, silent, because a seventh grader changed my idea and everyone else agreed. For some reason, it just made me feel stupid.

"That's an interesting idea, Hinata," the teacher smiled. "In fact, it would be great if you and Uchiha could work on it together, as a collaboration. Wouldn't it?"

I was suddenly paired up with the youngest, quietest girl in the room.

"I-I'm Hinata. I know you probably already know my name, but-"

"Sasuke." I was curt.

I was forced into working with Hinata Hyuuga. I was subsequently forced to see her in a different light.

3::

We worked on our raffle project for the next few weeks of October. The teacher thought it would be a good idea for everyone to pair off.

I wasn't happy about working with a seventh grader. I wasn't mean to her - at least I can say I wasn't cruel – but I spoke to her arrogantly. I always acted with that attitude of indifference I'd perfected.

Despite telling myself in the beginning that it was absolutely ridiculous that I, of all people, would be paired off to work with Hinata, I found that it wasn't as difficult as I'd anticipated. For one, she didn't pine. And...she didn't giggle. She flushed from her own insecurities, though not over asking for my phone number.

I can remember sitting with her in those same desks in the guidance room, three times per week, for one hour after school. She'd stopped stammering so much, which, as I'd bluntly told her, was obnoxious; I let go of my cautious approach, without realizing it.

Hinata and I talked about what charity we would contact and choose to support our raffle; how much of the money would go to the school's profits, and what the prize would be. It was an accident that I got to know her at all.

Girls, whether they were younger or even older than me, always seemed to ask too many questions. But Hinata...in a way, seemed different. Like she was genuinely interested.

"So...do you do a-anything outside of school?" Hinata asked one afternoon as we stood outside.

I was very tempted to say 'none of your business'. But Hinata had guts to ask me that. I said, "And why do you want to know?"

She blushed. "I don't know – it's just...well, we've been talking a lot about, er, student council things. So I figured I'd ask about...some other things...because..."

I shrugged. "I don't do anything in particular." This was true. I didn't have many extracurricular activites outside of school. That was one of my reasons for joining the student council in the first place. I read and worked on honors homework. I rode my bike everywhere. Stayed out of the house as often as possible. It was completely uninteresting, I had to admit.

"I'm not very interesting," I found myself echoing my thoughts. "I don't know why everyone asks me that."

Hinata looked embarrassed. "Oh."

I felt as if I'd offended her. As if she actually thought I did have things to do outside of the council but didn't want to tell. "It's true. I'm one of the most boring people you'll ever meet," I'd smirked.

Kind of amusing.

Hinata smiled a little. "I don't think – you don't seem boring..."

"OK. Fine. What do you do?" I asked. It seemed right to.

Usually talking with girls got on my nerves. In truth, I wasn't too "emotionally mature." Talking to Hinata wasn't as terrible as talking to other girls I knew. I think when I acknowledged her at all, it was startling. But it wasn't a bad thing that I did - it never was.

4::

In school, when you're "popular", everything is complicated.

Since grade school I was a loner. Some people were jealous of me, this I could tell. I only wanted to focus on grades, because my parents pushed me to perform at my best. When that kind of agenda is drilled into your mind, it's hard to think any differently. I became friends with few other students, some who didn't bother me constantly. But I was never on the same level as my peers.

I suppose I never totally rejected everyone. It just...happened. I knew that even as an accidental insider - someone who everyone wishes to be with just to be liked too, to feel like they are just as good looking or smart - I was secretly an outsider. I did not truly believe I belonged. I questioned: what did everyone see in me anyway?

Yet with popularity, there are some advantages. One being: your worshipped. No one questions you. No one dares. You're loved. And you never have a difficult time making friends, or getting people to like you.

Then again, is that an advantage? Or something like a disadvantage?

I recall it clearly, and it makes my stomach twist. It was a situation where you know you made the wrong thing. Where "popularity" becomes the worst thing. Where you wish people didn't care about you in the first place, where you're the underlying cause for everything that's wrong.

It was January. School was back into session. We were having our first student council meeting since the holiday break. After a successful winter dance, we were making progress.

At the meeting, Hinata and I took the same seats we'd taken since the beginning of the year – I sat near the the president, while she sat across from me. It was easier avoiding everyone who I was sure would bother me, while I knew Hinata wouldn't already.

At that time, Hinata wasn't really my "friend." And I knew she didn't like me in the way that other girls did, for whatever reason, I didn't care. So, we had a sort of mutual understanding. We worked well together in student council, and could actually communicate, no strings attached.

But I wasn't a reformed person or anything. I was detached.

(I was the problem.)

We worked together that day as we always did. The teacher smiled and said, "Our best duo, back to work again." This made some kids laugh.

Hinata asked me about my break. "What did you do on vacation, Uchiha-san?"

"Nothing too exciting," I said quietly as I sorted through my old notes. "Exchanging gifts and seeing relatives."

She was always asking me things like that, out of politeness. I found myself answering all of her questions. Maybe it made her happy. She didn't seem to have too many friends, that I knew.

After the meeting ended, I was one of the last students to leave. We were on the second floor now, in the seventh grade guidance room. I was a few minutes late, as I'd been writing down my ideas for changes we wanted to make in school activities and functions. It was already four-oh-five.

And as I shut the door behind me, I saw them at the end of the hall standing around a girl.

(It was Hinata.)

I really should have known what was going on.

I recognized Karin and a few other girls from the council, even from my math class. I saw Hinata, standing by the lockers with her book bag open, her books spilled out around her feet in a mess, her face bright red, her hands clenched into nervous fists.

I could gather what they were saying all the way down the hall.

The girls were yelling at her. They were calling her names, degrading her in hopes of tearing her down. Stay away. Back off. Loser...

In one brief second, I thought – thought - I saw Hinata turn her head and I swear – she looked at me.

(Help - )

Suddenly I was at the door, then flying down the stairs as if I'd imagined it.

5::

I didn't do it out of hate, or resentment for her.

I did it because I was a coward.

My actions made me just as good as the others I didn't want to be, the guys in my grade, in my class. No. Worse than them.

Isn't there someone better for these kinds of situations? Some fearless and courageous person whose unafraid to step in and threaten and look absolutely heroic?

(Why couldn't it have been you?)

When I walked down the stairwell and out the front exit, I saw my brother waiting for me in his car. I got in and threw my bag into the backseat. Itachi said nothing to me beyond: "How was the meeting?"

I shrugged. My heart was beating unevenly. I was deliberating if Hinata had actually seen me. I was trying to convince myself that she hadn't – that my eyes were playing tricks on me, that Hinata had never turned my way, that I hadn't seen her either. "It was all right." We didn't talk on the way home.

At the next meeting, Hinata seemed nervous; she didn't talk to me as much. The girls kept staring; I felt tense. What had happened – it was ignored between us both. Honestly, I couldn't have betrayed her.

Even though I did.

I hadn't signed up on the student council to be bothered by bickering, fighting girls. I hadn't signed up to be vice president to deal with girls being jealous over me – I'd joined to get away from all that. I convinced myself, maybe for the sake of my own conscience, that the fight that day – it hadn't been any of my business at all. So why should I get involved, only to draw more unneeded attention to myself? I hadn't wanted that. I wanted to be left alone.

( I was selfish.)

The rest of the meeting, we discussed our plans as we usually did. I ignored how drawn Hinata's faced looked. I represented our ideas at the end of the meeting. She didn't ask me anything that day. I rarely heard her questions afterwards.

6::

When I went on to high school and Hinata went to the eighth grade, we didn't see each other for that entire year.

But in tenth grade I ocasionally I saw her again around the school. Sometimes helping out, sometimes staying late, maybe for tutoring or for a club I didn't know about. She did a lot for charity. That was all I knew through what I heard.

She always managed to give a small smile.

After Junior year I quit the council. I wasn't interested anymore. And Naruto, one of the few friends I'd bothered to keep, actually became president. High school was a different place. I was no longer touted as the most popular person. I Despite being obnoxious, Naruto gives off a quality that makes him more likable than me. He deserved his position.

I noticed Hinata wasn't on the council any longer. Whenever I caught glimpses of Hinata, I was tempted to go ask her just for the sake of it, Why did you give up the student council? I myself had no motivation to do it, but I know she did. In middle school Hinata liked being on the council. If she'd been more confident, she could have been president. I was curious. But maybe I wanted to ask her, just to make sure she didn't say It was your fault.

It was a normal day in the middle of October when we were told that one of the juniors had died. I'd been trying to organize my papers at the time, which was more important than listening in. It was almost time for second period and I had misplaced my history paper. I was planning on getting an A...

I wasn't listening until I heard them say her name.

"Yeah...Hinata Hyuuga. I heard it from some of the underclassmen. The teachers were all freaking out...like, they weren't sure if we should know or something..."

The bell rang, blaring over conversation and discussion over her death. I forgot to find my history paper until in class my teacher demanded it from me.

I felt numb.

I'm not a "nice" person. So I couldn't make myself go to the wake. I've been to viewings; they certainly aren't pleasant. Yet I felt I wasn't wanted there anyway. I heard from Naruto it was, as he said in one word, "awful." I didn't ask for details.

A few days later, in my room I was looking for something in my closet. I noticed above my clothes wrack, I had a shelf of old folders, papers and binders with important information from middle school and my underclassmen years.

I was suddenly compelled to look through it. I reached up and grabbed a blue folder, bent at the edges. 'STUDENT COUNCIL' was written on the front in black pen.

Inside the folder, I browsed through the papers. The first thing I saw was Hinata's writing – all the notes she'd written in the margins, in contribution to mine. Her neat, perfect cursive made my writing look bad. She'd commented on all my ideas. She'd added some of her own. It was still all there.

In reading her writing, I was almost reassured that Hinata had been alive before. That we had ever spoken at all. It felt like a distant memory, longer than four years ago, standing beside her outside in the cold winter as we waited to get a ride home. I almost wished I could replay it, differently. I would have changed it, not in reality, but only in my mind. Maybe in doing so, I would be as good as everyone said. But I couldn't change it, even in memory.

I shut the folder and shoved it in the very back of my closet, past boxes of old clothes and shoes, photo albums and books.

I don't know why I bothered coming here today. Grief counseling? Some people do these kinds of things. I'm not one of them.

Yet as the bell rings and the students in this room stand, I find myself asking:

Where are you now?

::Fin::