Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, or the elements of the Phantom of the Opera you will see in this story. I wish I did though. *Sigh* I guess I can always ask Santa this year. 'Dear Santa, I've been really good this year. I haven't even kicked a baby once! Please please please can you find it in your awesome of hearts to grant me my wish of Sasuke dipped in chocolate, under my tree, and trussed up with nothing but pretty red bow? I'll leave you cookies! Love Ambrosia.

It could work.

Note: Chapter 4 of Spaghetti Western is in the works, I promise. It's just that I've had this story line screaming in my head the last couple of days, and finally had to get it down in writing. The elements of this particular tale might be a little darker than some of my others, but I guess it really all depends on my mood. Please take into consideration that this story is also inspired by aspects courtesy via Phantom of the Opera, but is by all means my own version. I'm going to be delving into a subject I'm not really in touch with. True I took the two years of beginner ballet classes seemingly required of every daughter with a sadistic mother bent on seeing her child in a tutu, but beyond that my knowledge is dead. But I believe that to become a better writer I need to go outside my comfort zone, research (which I do for all my stories regardless) , and make it my own. So I apologize ahead of time for all of you who are seriously into the beautiful art that is Ballet, and I hope you forgive my clumsy bumbling of the subject. Please know that if I had one ounce of your wondrous talent (which I'm really really jealous of by the way) I'd be out there dancing as we speak. But alas, all I can strive to do is live vicariously through my characters. If any of you find fault within my terms or usage of steps, I gladly welcome correction and also suggestions.

Prolog:

Dreamscapes:

The day she arrived was quite decidedly what her father would've called a catalyst. A single moment in time that precipitated the change of her entire existence. The beginning of the end.

She was but 10, and already so tired of the world she lived in. The journey from the orphanage had been bumpy and uncomfortable. Winter had descended on the land in full force; its icy fingers probed the frayed lining of the moth-eaten hackney interior, leaving her to shiver beneath the rags of torn wool the orphanage was generous enough to provide as travel wear. The small satchel she clutched in her arms held the last vestiges of a life long forgotten. Inside were a few trinkets worthless to everyone but her. There was a picture of her mother and baby sister, wrinkled with time and smudge from her continual handling, a pair of knit mittens (worn clear through, but a birthday gift nonetheless), and last, tucked between the smoke stained folds of a handkerchief bearing her fathers initials was a single butterfly hairpin, minus one wing.

It had been steadily drizzling outside since the moment she stepped up into the carriage. The cloudy skies muted the buildings and people she passed in shades of blue and gray. Like her.

She allowed herself a small smile at the thought. Her father always did say she was a creature of winter, what with her unusual indigo hair; pale skin all topped off with the Hyuuga eyes. And as quickly as it appeared, her smile faded. Memories of her family, though now faint, still stirred a melancholy in her chest, leaving her with a hollow feeling. The authorities told the orphanage that the fire was a result of an accident. That her mother had left her socks drying to close to the lit hearth and when a log shifted in the flames, embers must have caught the wool like tinder, sending the house to ash in its wake.

Hinata knew better. Her mother never would've been so careless. What she could remember of the woman in the photo, was that she was someone completely dedicated to her family. Hinako Hyuuga would not have let something so trifle as socks be the downfall of those she loved. But there was no further investigation. The fire was written off as another tragedy of life and the mystery that revolved around Hinata's own escape from the house was never answered. Her nightmares still shook with flashes of flames and screams and yet when it came to remembering how she alone avoided death, her mind was a blur of falling snow and flying shadows.

Hinata was jolted from her ruminations as the horses pulled up tight. If not for her sudden grip on the leather strap above her head, she would have flown face first into the opposite seat. Pulling her shawl closer about her shoulders, the last Hyuuga of Konoha opened the carriage and stepped down onto the filth-ridden street. Without so much as a farewell the driver crack his whip over the pair of sour looking sorrels and took off at a brisk gallop, disappearing around the corner. Hinata glanced back and forth furtively; watching as the shadows seemingly crept closer, as if taking on a life of their own. She could hear the rats scuttling about in the trash littering the gutters, in the distance a dog barked and a man screamed some obscenity to the poor mutt to keep quiet. All the while, the rain continued to fall, effectively soaking through her skin until she felt her bones quake from the cold.

Hinata eyed the door in front of her skeptically. It was large, imposing. But at 10 years of age, alone, with only the clothes on your back and a small reticule, everything was imposing. The bluette clutched her bag and held her shawl together in one hand as she reached up and tentatively knocked with the other. Not even a minute passed before the door was ripped open, a tall, lithe woman stood in the entrance. Her eyes were the color of rubies and they looked down at Hinata taking in every detail from the top of her dripping indigo head to the bottom of her toeless flats.

"You're late." Was all the woman said as she stepped to the side, motioning the orphan in.

Hinata was instantly enveloped in warmth as she shuffled into what appeared to be a kitchen. A wood stove burned merrily in the corner, and though she appreciated the heat it provided, Hinata refused to look at the fire.

"You may call me Madame Kurenai, I will be your instructor." The woman had already started moving to the door at the opposite side of the room, weaving through the tables and stools with a grace common to those in her profession. Hinata jumped to follow, her steps not nearly as poised or quiet. The Madame continued with her informative as the pair continued their journey through a series of dimly lit corridors. Hinata let her gaze linger on some of the sights she saw in passing rooms. There were women and men in various stages of dress. Some were singing, others contorting their bodies into impossible positions. Stage hands ran every which way; their hands heavy with garish costumes, colorful set pieces, ropes, lights, sand bags. Hinata's head began to spin as she and her new 'teacher' waltzed through the whirlwind, seemingly above the chaos.

"First we'll introduce you to your new family." Kurenai spoke over the bustling cacophony, barely glancing back to see that her charge wasn't lagging behind. "Then I will show you up to the dormitories to bathe and rest." Hinata faltered in her walk.

"F-Family?"

"Not your conventional family by any means. But here, the Company operates as one in actions if not name, we watch out for our own." They broke through the pandemonium that was backstage and stepped into another world altogether.

It was beautiful. As if someone had torn a page from the picture book she and the other girls in the orphanage gathered around to marvel at in the evenings, and stretched it out to fill the entire room. There were large canvasses, as tall reaching as the ceilings, painted to depict a sunny meadow full of flowers bursting in every shade. Life size trees of cloth and wire stood off to the sides, while plump bushes of silk leaves scattered to fill in the rest. It was like walking into a fairy tale, and all around her dancers, both male and female, twirled around her, lifting, stretching, moving in the most dazzling ways, she couldn't help but gasp. There costumes depicted various wildlife; some were dusted with the spots of fawns, others donned ears of predators and masks of prey. Musicians, handling the tools of their trade that varied from delicate to remarkable, plucked, prodded, and pressed at instruments in the large space before the stage that separated them from the first seats of the actual theatre; a room that was awe-inspiring all on its own. But before Hinata could take in any more details, Madame Kurenai clapped her hands drawing the attention of all eyes.

Hinata dropped her gaze to the floor a blush working its way across her cheeks as she stopped short. The Madame paused in her stride but a moment to reach back a grab the girl's arm gently, pulling her forward only to come to a halt in front of the entire group.

"Sorry to interrupt, I know that our show lies only days away, but I've a new student to introduce." Kurenai pushed Hinata forward slightly and placed aged hands on her trembling shoulders, giving a comforting squeeze. The bluette raised her head slightly before ducking back down. "This is Hinata. She's to be replacing Karin."

She could feel their looks. Feel the contempt as they took in her ragged appearance, her dripping clothes, and the scuffed bag in her arms. There were some snorts, smothered giggles, and a few gasps, but no one spoke out in direct protest.

"Please make her feel at home." Kurenai went on, eying everyone before her, especially the dancers closer to her new charges age group. "I'm sure you all remember how you felt when you first arrived." A pause. "Thank you, that will be all." With a resolute nod, Kurenai directed Hinata off to the right, back into the fray of pre-production hustle.

What seemed like a lifetime of endless turns and staircases later, the Madame led the quickly tiring girl through one last set of doors into a large open expanse. Hinata nearly shouted with relief at the sight of at least 20, though slim, fluffy beds lining the wall. Each one possessing it's own pillow and quilt.

"I apologize for the rush." Kurenai smiled apologetically, noting the lethargic way her small companion moved. "You must be tired after your long day of travel." The Madam waved to a steaming hipbath halfway hidden behind a silk screen in the far corner. "I had some of the house girls heat some water for you. No point in letting you catch your death after just arriving."

Hinata couldn't help but turn her appreciative smile up at the instructor. "T-thank you, M-madame." Kurenai brushed off the child's response with a grin.

"Now we wake early, breakfast at 6, warm up starts promptly at 7. Ino and TenTen will show you the ropes."

"W-warm up?" Hinata stuttered, confusion molding her pert features.

"Tomorrow, we'll start with the Turnout." Kurenai continued as if not hearing her tone. "It is the most defining characteristic of Ballet. When it is perfected, you'll move on."

Hinata felt like she missed part of the conversation somewhere. All she could do was parrot in dumb fascination.

"Move o-on?"

"Yes, I was watching the way you walk, you have a certain sway. You're a natural." Kurenai reassured the girl with a warming smile. "You'll be ready in no time."

There was a long empty silence, filled only with the sounds of Hinata's shifts in weight, her feet creaking against the floorboards. Her mind was a tizzy of questions while her body struggled to stay awake.

"W-what am I-I here f-for?"

Kurenai's expression fell. "Didn't they tell you at the orphanage?"

Hinata shook her head violently, sending a smattering of water in all directions. Madame sighed, tucking a piece of her own tousled locks behind her ear.

"I thought they surely would have told you." The middle-aged woman felt a pang of sympathy for the child before her. "If I'd known they hadn't, I would've explained before hand." She shrugged her shoulders with a hum. "Ah well, better late than never." She proceeded to kneel down to Hinata's level, not saying a word until the young girl lifted those amazing opal eyes from the floor to meet her gaze directly. "You, Hinata, were chosen. Picked out of a score of other girls to come here to learn the art of Ballet."

When those opal orbs blinked in confusion, Kurenai elaborated.

"You saw those people down there tonight, the ones in the costumes, the ones I introduced you too. You remember what they were doing when we first walked on stage?"

"D-dancing?"

Kurenai bit back a grin.

"In a word yes." The older woman lifted her hand and brushed a stray lock of curling hair away from Hinata's cheek. "But more than that. So much more." Her red eyes looked beyond the girl's shoulder, seeming to peer into the past. "They evoke. Create. Give life. They eclipse the mere thought of 'dance' with the flick of a wrist. Every changing flow, every drifting bar of music is preceded by their whim. We've the power to take mere notes on a page and mold them into a story. With the aid of the orchestra, our steps translate into dreamscapes. We take people away from the world they live in and project them into another realm altogether. A place so perfect, so right, they fear the approaching finale with aversion. Knowing that when the last note fades and the stage is held in suspension, like the holding of ones breath, their world will return. The colors of the dreamscape will wash away to reveal that all they are doing, is sitting in a plump chair, surrounded by people just as disappointed with their realities as they are." Kurenai averted her eyes, her gaze blinking back into focus on the wonder-filled face before her.

Hinata's lips parted in awe.

"Can y-you really d-do th-that?"

The Madame cupped the girls face. Her pixie like features were charming, heralding a future beauty that could very well be unmatched. She reminded Kurenai of the Mazarine Blue Butterfly. Rare, delicate. Hinata was colored with the complementing, yet otherworldly combination of dark azure, pale cream, and translucent lavender. Now if only she could take that beauty and Hinata's natural grace; a Ballerina, of which the likes this nation had never seen would be born. The sheen of awe and bewilderment glimmered in the opal depths of her eyes, giving Kurenai hope.

"Not just me, or them. You will do that as well." Hinata felt something inside her jump; a toe-curling excitement began to wiggle through her stomach and down her limbs.

"How?"

The Madame stood, brushing the dust off her skirts with one hand while the other combed through Hinata's tangled hair almost lovingly. Something in the child reminded the instructor of herself at such an age. The world had been harsh, but she had found refuge in ballet just like Hinata would.

"First you'll wash." Kurenai motioned to the quickly cooling hipbath. "You'll find fresh clothes in the trunk at the end of your bed." She pointed to a particular mattress near the far window, overlooking the back alley she had arrived at. "The other girls will be up after rehearsal, so it's best that you understand that privacy is a luxury you should take advantage of when the occasion arises." She stated with a secret smile. "Tomorrow, we'll truly start you on your path. But tonight you will rest." The Madame continued as she witnessed Hinata fight a yawn without success.

Before said orphan could breath her thanks, Kurenai sashayed out the door and down the stairs, leaving Hinata alone to better acquaint herself to the new life ahead of her. Candles lit the darkened corners, taking the edge off the gray light that filtered in through the arched windows lining the walls. The warmth of the water was divine and smelled slightly of tea roses and sage; later she would discover that the sage was used to reduce risk of a cold. Next came the garments. Most had the worn look of hand-me-downs, but none so poorly kept and tattered as the clothes the orphanage gave out. To her, the soft wools, chambray, and hemmed unmentionables were heaven against her skin. And when she at last slid between the clean sheets of her mattress, snuggled deeply beneath the patch quilt, a pair of thick socks hugging her feet, she felt lighter. Like a great burden had been taken off her slim shoulders. And yet, at the same time she felt nervous. A chapter in her life had been turned and the words on the crisp new page had yet to be written.

Despite her uncertainty, Hinata slowly felt the days discoveries take their toll. Her eyelids drooped lower with every patter of rain on the window; the fog of approaching slumber clouded her mind. She fell asleep to the memories of twirling fawns, and leaping wolves. They weaved in and out of one another in fluent elegance until the colors of the paper forest they danced in swirled together leading her further down into dreams.

A/N: Like it? Hate it? This will be a love story, have no doubt. It's just that I really really needed this chapter to set up the rest. So it was much more plot foundation then developing relationships. Next chapter however, MUHAHAHA! Can you say mystery hotness?

So if you'd like me to continue with this story, please

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And as always, my lovelies,

Happy Reading : )

~Ambrosia