Title: Gilded Facade
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing: NejixHinata
Theme: #6 - The space between dream and reality
Disclaimer: Naruto is not mine.
There is always a space between dreams and reality. A gulf of time and knowledge where what we see and feel stands on one side of the cavernous divide and stares in wonder at what we know cannot be real. Where the phantasms of the mind twirl together with the daydreams of youth and innocence into a magical cacophony of coloured lights and sounds and explosions of sensation and mysticism as they gaze across at the stark reality of that which is true.
She knows this, regardless of whether she wishes for it or not. After all, her world is divided by that space, defined so much by it. "Reality" is a debatable concept in the world she lives in, this world of blood and death and duty. For on the surface, it's simply a village. Happy people, laughing children running along the streets and playing ninja with carefree abandon. Men and women tending shops, watering window-box gardens and greeting each other with warm smiles and waves. That is the reality, but it's also the dream. The candy-coloured facade draped over the dark underneath of truth.
The truth that, while it is a home, and a town, and a peaceful place, Konohagakure is also a shinobi village. The reality that, beneath the smiles and the laughter, lies a history written in blood and war and strife. That for every man or woman who makes their livelihood on the surface, in the open, there are three more who live lives mostly in the shadows. Familiar faces, walking along the streets in their distinctive flak jackets and vests, Konoha's red spiral patch blazing evidence from their backs. They are as much a part of the village's fabric as those they come home to, yet they inhabit the truer world, the darker world. The portion that remains unseen beneath much of the facade.
The divergence of reality and dream reaches deeper still, past the fringes of the environs surrounding her. Fantasy is a world in which she is strong. A dream where she stands tall and proud amidst her forefathers and her clansmen, leading them with the determination and strength of will that they expect from her. An imagined time when she can look her father in the eye and tell him her thoughts, her feelings, her hopes and dreams and be regarded as an equal.
Reality is her weakness. Her fears and insecurities, the fumbling way she makes her way through life with their eyes on her back, their disapproving glares and whispers echoing through her mind as she lowers her head in shame at how far below their expectations she consistently falls. The timid way she stumbles over her own words when she so much as tries to broach an idea to her teammates, people who support and befriend her. Her inability to even look her father in the eye, lest his disapproval weigh even heavier on her shoulders. It is the fear that she will never succeed, that she will forever be left to a life of disappointment and failure in the eyes of the people she is to one day lead.
It is in a dream long-since abandoned where she shares a life with Uzumaki Naruto. A playful and whimsical girlhood fantasy where she lives in a house with a white picket fence and cooks dinner for a hoarde of laughing children with sparkling blue eyes and blonde hair. Where the man she once had dreams of comes striding through the door to hang the red and white patterned hat on a hook and swings a laughing little boy onto his shoulders before stepping over to sample the soup she's cooking before she playfully swats him with the spoon and the entire scene warms with the glow of happy laughter.
But that fantasy is just that. Fantasy. The man who would be Hokage -- who will be Hokage -- holds no feelings of such regard for her, only the tender care of a dear friend. And now, looking back, she knows the truth of things. That her first love, while strong, is simply that. Her first love. There will be others, stronger and more enduring even then the one that came before. The reality is that those blue eyes shine for another's smile, another's warmth.
Her reality is one of secrets. One of hidden feelings and furtive glances towards the one who now holds her heart, the one who perhaps has held it all along. The reality is not a world where she may say what she pleases, and love whom she loves without repercussion. Instead, it is a cage, a cage of rules and lines and understandings. The understanding that their love is forbidden, misunderstood, denied. That feelings and emotions must lie beneath a seamless mask of composure and dignity, hidden and shadowed.
It is within the realms of the dreamworld where she stands on a sunlit porch, watching as a tall, dark-haired figure makes his way across the yard to greet her. Where she smiles serenely up at him as he takes her hand and raises it to his lips silently before releasing it to cup her face in his palms and press an equally tender kiss to her mouth. Where they sit together on the veranda, her head against his shoulder as they simply watch the fading day turn to dusk and count the stars as they appear.
In her dream world, there is no Hyuuga clan, no rules and restrictions. No juuin, no bunke or soke. In that magical place, there is only Neji. Only Hinata. Only the two of them, happy and together and safe from the cares of the world. It is a place where the harshness of reality cannot touch. But it is only a mirage. Only a fantasy, and there is a distance between it and the world outside of her daydreams.
In that reality, there is no sunlit porch. No tender kisses and twilight stargazing. There are only furtive whispers and heated gazes. Gentle touches are exchanged for quick, accidental brushings of hand against hand as they pass in the hallway. There are no soft, lingering moments spent in each other's arms, but rather the time they do have is stolen away in the dead of night or in heated moments where time is of the essence and tenderness is lost amidst desire and the need for secrecy and speed as he presses her against the wall with strong hands and mouth, her answering back with equal ferocity, her moans echoing his in the night darkness of the hallways.
There is a gulf between dream and reality, a gulf between the feverish kisses shared in secret, the silenced moans and hushed whispers and the idyllic dream of a happy and normal life. A life lived in the open, shared with their friends and loved ones. It is a gulf of secrecy, a gulf of protection -- theirs, from the world and from the repercussions -- and a gulf of tradition. Bunke. Soke. One superiour, one inferiour. One subservient to the other, that other never deigning to soil themselves by association. It is the division of the Hyuuga clan, the division that defines their lives.
It is the divide that she hopes to one day bridge.