At first, nothing happened. Neither of us spoke and I assumed my father expected me to bow after my moment rebellion. I didn't. Uncle Hizashi never did. He would smile. Channeling him, I smiled. For a split second, my father looked taken back and he cleared his throat, disgruntled. Just as quickly as the surprise appeared, it was gone and he almost lounged back. Of course, Hyuga Hiashi never lounged, he was only ever posed.
"Hinata." his voice was tough and his aged peeked through. Maliciously, the thought of him being old and close to being crippled or even dying made me smile more. The old bastard deserved to die, not Uncle. "These arrangements are not ideal." his fingers ran along the straight line of his pant suit.
"No." I murmured, pulling my bag closer to me so that I could feel the tea pot digging against my stomach. It almost seemed hot but I figured that must have been me. Stress was boiling in the pit of my tummy like a pot of hot water and I was close to exploding. "These aren't. But, between us, there never has been ideal circumstances, have there?" somewhere in me, I wondered when I had gotten so bold. Perhaps, Uncle Hizashi was with me. Maybe he was the one speaking, not me.
He who has gone, so we but cherish his memory, Antoine de Saint-Exupery advised, abides with us, more potent, nay, more present than the living man.
Yes, Uncle Hizashi was with me. He will always be with me.
At my words, my father fell silent and only stared at me. I could make out a slight glint to his pale eyes. It was not something usually present. Normally, dull would be the best way to describe him. Nothing sparkled in his eyes anymore. It was as if Hyuga Hiashi was dead on the inside.
Through the tinted windows I could the houses disappear before we made it to the outskirts. The Hyuga compound was ginormous. One of the biggest buildings in Konoha actually. I sometimes passed it with my friends but I had never really looked at it. I felt like an infant, my eyes new and innocent. They weren't though, not anymore. Not these eyes who knew death, loss, sadness, adventure, humor, betrayal, envy and curiosity. These eyes knew sixteen years of experience.
In 1932, Aldous Leonard Huxley preached, experience is not what happens to a man. It is what a man does with what happens to him.
The driver opened the door and waved his hand towards me as a sign to tell me to get out. Quickly, I scooted out, gripping my bag so hard my hands began to burn. Stumbling out, I approached the building. It had been so long since I had last walked the halls, I wondered if anything had changed. The way my father was though, I doubted it.
Even from the outside, the compound was still traditional japanese, built in the Edo Era by the original Hyuga Clan, a branch off of the Uchiha clan. Recalling the images of my home, the antique shop, I realized everything would be different. Uncle Hizashi had done his best to modernize the place, wanting me to feel at home in the twenty first century. I has a sixteen year old girl that needed a place to fit. The antique shop was his home and the twenty first century was mine.
You can never go home again, Maya Angelou notified, but the truth is you can never leave home, so it's all right.
Home, Christian Morgenstern remarked, is not where you live but where they understand you.
My father stepped out of the limo and walked past me, the front door swinging open, a man in a fancy suit holding it for him. Behind me, the limo drove off, disappearing down the street. Hesitantly, I followed, the butler nearly slamming the door on me, catching it just in time. Heart pounding, I peered around. The entire place was cold and empty and my heart echoed off the vacant walls as loud as my father's footsteps as he stalked down a long corridor to the right, leaving me at the door.
Dear Christian Morgenstern, the Hyuga compound is not my home.