I hit the cold hard floor. Who knows how long I had been out of it. The air was thick and humid, and everyway I turned I could smell nothing but the foul stench of burning corpses. Then I remembered what had happened.
It was early in the morning. Kiba wasn't even up yet. Though he normally did stay up late into the night. Kurenai and I could hear them coming. Kiba joined us with Akamaru at his side soon after.
They just bust in as if they owned the place. Eight of them. Eight against three and a dog. It was hopeless. It was over before it began. My Byakugan didn't help at all. They were too fast for me to keep my eyes on. They had me bound within minutes. Looking back all I could see were four bodies on the ground. My squad looking back at me.
Then in a new cold room. I was brought there twice a day for questioning. They had my fingers spread until I spoke, but they never got the words from me they wanted to hear. I spent so long running and hiding. Never sticking up for myself. Now was the time to stay strong. For my village, my friends. For Naruto. Despite how little we conversed in those times, I always saw him looking down on me, like I was weak. Not weak, a disguise.
There was one thing that I found comforting inside my little room. Hoping one day that they would just kill me. The sound ninja were not like those in Konoha. They respected me as an adversary despite my previous lack of ambition and strength. They treated me like I were a Jonin, and I could easily kill all of them in a heartbeat, if only I were set free. They treated me like a Hyuuga.
I spent my whole life hiding behind my family name. Never reaching for my full potential. Always running away, as if I could escape anything as long as I was frightened enough. Someone would come and save me. I was a main branch Hyuuga. Now I was in a place where my captives saw me as a threat. They saw me like I had never cowered in fear. Like I had gone on to become a great ninja, and defeat hundreds of opponents. And I didn't want it to end, I needed it. They gave me a feeling of acceptance; something my family never gave me. Not even once.
With each interview they asked me the same questions.
"Where are the rest of you?"
"Where are they hiding?"
As if I knew. Otogakure was ruthless. Not a day went by when they casually ignored or forgot an interrogation. Many days, it got up to four or five. My fingernails were left with traces of bamboo each night. My throat raw from the screams they loved to hear. But I didn't want to leave. I wanted to be here forever. Treated like a normal person. They were my family now.